The Return of King Arthur
by SapereAude03
Summary: Change is coming to the SGC, but Jack wants one last mission with the team. Their easy mission is botched, and SG-1 finds themselves fulfilling a millennia old prophecy, defeating an age-defying tyrant, and discovering what they truly want in life. Team epic with Sam/Jack, set between Season 8 and 9.
1. Chapter 1 - The Prophecy

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate or its characters.

Title: The Return of King Arthur

Rating: T for violence, language, and allusions to sex

Season: Post "Moebius," set between Seasons 8 and 9.

A/N: Inspired by the scene in "The Quest, Part 2" where Merlin believes that Sam is Guinevere and the rest of SG-1 are Knights of the Round Table. This story is based upon and incorporates some aspects of Arthurian mythology. It complements Seasons 9 and 10 of SG-1, but it has nothing to do with the Ori storyline of those seasons.

After a few one-shots, this is my first major story. As of right now, updates are planned for every week or so. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcomed and encouraged. Enjoy!

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Chapter One – The Prophecy

"Well, after eight years, I can still honestly say - this is different."

General Jack O'Neill stepped away from the Stargate and onto the soil of P8X-579 – God, it felt good to be off world again! Pulling his P-90 up, he flicked on the flashlight in order to illuminate the small cavern into which he and SG-1 had emerged. With the four bodies and the customary MALP occupying the space, it was very cramped indeed, and with her nose stuck in one of her gadgets, Colonel Samantha Carter very nearly collided with him.

"Yes, sir. The MALP did indicate that we're inside of a man-made cavern inside of some kind of mountain."

Jack took note of a faint light coming from behind where Teal'c's imposing figure was stationed. It signaled the exit out of the long, narrow cavern.

"For what reason would the Stargate be placed within a mountain?"

"Perhaps the inhabitants only recently discovered it and dug it out. Like on Nyan's world." Daniel Jackson conjectured, referring to the alien refugee who still worked as his research assistant.

"Bedrosia," said Teal'c helpfully.

Jack mentally rifled through eight years of memories before something clicked. Oh yeah. That was a fun planet. Tiny, electric cages. Pawns in an ideological war. Big, honkin' needles. Jack shuddered and told himself it was just due to the chill in the dark cave. He remembered the needles.

"I don't think so, Daniel," Carter said. "There are no signs of recent human activity, and the inside of the cavern shows some signs of erosion where rain water has trickled in."

"There is no sign of the Dial Home Device," Teal'c observed.

The light from Carter's P-90 danced around the cavern as she turned to answer the Jaffa. "No, the MALP didn't find any evidence of the DHD, but I brought a naquadah generator and laptop with a dialing program so we can dial out manually."

"What do ya say we take this conversation out into the sunlight, shall we?" Jack began moving toward the mouth of the cavern. The rest of his team followed.

Crap. Carter's team.

This wasn't his mission. This wasn't his team. Carter was SG-1's team leader. He was just along for one last ride before his reassignment took effect, and he had to be in Washington in a week.

Not that he'd told them that yet. He'd only found out himself 24 hours before. The unassuming envelope had ended up buried within all of his other paperwork, and it probably would have remained there if Walter hadn't found it and left it on top with a post-it note that said, "General, you really need to read this one."

Damn the omniscient little sergeant. Jack would have preferred living in ignorance.

He'd followed up the transfer papers with an immediate call to the Pentagon.

" _George, I thought I told you I was on my way out." He had hoped that it didn't sound like whining._

" _I know, Jack, but it's my turn first. We can't afford to lose you right now."_

" _I've already handed in my resignation." The Stargate program could either include him as a civilian or not include him at all._

" _Which the President promptly tore in half and threw away." Damn it, Hayes. Jack pursed his lips together to keep from maligning his Commander-in-Chief. When he didn't speak, Hammond continued._

" _Jack, I have more than an inkling about why you want out," Hammond's voice was soft, paternal, but it brooked no argument. "But we've considered all of the possibilities. There is simply no one else that can match your knowledge or experience to oversee this program."_

So his was the only name on the short list. Jack was happy for General Hammond; God knew nobody deserved a quiet life more, but the whole situation was crap.

They'd defeated the Replicators, the Goa'uld were on their way out, and Carter had dumped the Shrub. Things had been looking up, even if he hadn't pushed her to define their relationship while they fished on his dock. She was still too raw from recent events, still grieving over her father and her ill-fated engagement, but they'd talked enough to know that their long-buried feelings were still mutual and still very present. He still couldn't understand what a woman as brilliant and beautiful as Samantha Carter saw in him, but his heart soared when he realized that if they played their cards right, the changing galactic situation may open up an opportunity for them.

Kerry had placed that trump card in his hands, and he was more than willing to play it, if only the President had accepted his resignation. But he didn't, and as the new Head of Homeworld Security, he'd be overseeing the SGC, the 302 Program, Area 51 – Carter would remain in his chain of command no matter where she was in the program.

He shoved the thought away, resolving not to think about it. He breathed deeply and savored the distinct feeling of being on a new planet, a slight tingle leftover from the trip through the wormhole still radiating through his core.

Here, finally off world again, it was just too easy to slip back into their former team dynamic. At least, it was easy for him. He had to remind himself that while he was being "the Man," the rest of his team had become their _own_ team. It had a different feeling – more streamlined, efficient; Carter had done a great job over the last year.

Of course, they were missing his particular _je ne sais quoi_ , but that was about the only rebuttal Jack could make against the niggling little voice that said they didn't need him at all.

He slowed his steps and pressed himself closer to the cavern wall, allowing Carter to move ahead of him. She moved passed him with a swiftness that said that while she knew she was leading this operation, there were no hard feelings for his slip-up.

Stepping outside, Jack quickly donned his sunglasses. The sunlight was fierce. Once he could see, he took note of the landscape. They were standing in a large field covered with golden weeds that reached nearly waist high. Beyond the field stood the tree line of an obviously dense forest. Turning around and looking upwards, Jack found that the Stargate really had been located within a mountain, though it was the only one in sight.

"Sam. Over there." From Jack's left, Daniel gestured toward the tree line, where several faint, white lines of smoke trailed into the air.

"I see it," Carter answered before glancing down to read her instrument. "I'm not getting any kind of energy reading. Whoever made those fires are probably fairly primitive technologically."

"So what's the plan, Colonel?"

Carter smirked, and Jack knew he was forgiven. "We make contact with the locals, sir."

"Elegant in its simplicity!"

Carter took point, and her team followed behind him, picking through the waist-high weeds in a single file line with Jack bringing up the rear. By the time they reached the tall pine-like trees, they could follow the trail by the pungent aroma of meat cooking over fires. Jack thought it smelled like something akin to venison and wondered what other kinds of animals lived in the forest. So far, they had only heard some small songbirds. Oh, and he'd almost stepped on some kind of rodent that looked like a squirrel with the skinny tail of a rat.

"There." Teal'c's voice caught his attention, and Jack looked in the direction that his finger was pointing. A ray of light shone through the dense forest, signaling the way out. Carter adjusted her path and led them to the edge of the forest. She stopped where the trees ended in order to survey the area, and Jack couldn't help but take in a breath.

Beyond the trees, the world spread out in a rolling, green field dotted with pink wildflowers. A narrow stream ran through the field and along its banks sat a small village. The smoke stacks rose above the houses, and even from a half a klick away, Jack could see dozens of people mulling about. Beyond the village, a narrow dirt road led away into an open countryside that went on for miles. The rays of the planet's sun shone brightly, casting a soft glow and creating a landscape reminiscent of the paintings his ol' Aunt Muriel hung in her living room. What was that artist's name? Kinky … Thomas Kinky… that sounded about right. It was nauseatingly beautiful.

Together, they stepped out of the forest and into the field toward the village. As they came nearer, a loud shout arose from the settlement. An older woman stood on the outskirts of the town and pointed very emphatically at SG-1. A mass of people, all dressed in shabby, homespun clothing, hurried over to the woman who raised the alarm. Jack increased his hold on his P-90, and he could sense Carter beside him doing the same. Daniel stepped up on his other side, ready to communicate with the overly excited villagers who began rushing away from the town and directly toward them. They certainly didn't seem to have any hostile intentions, in fact, their faces shone with delight and they jabbered in excited voices. Like a mob, the men, women, and children clustered around the surprised foursome, still yelling and reverently reaching forward to touch their BDU jackets.

"Daniel? What's going on?" Carter had to raise her voice considerably to be heard above the crowd.

"No idea!" he yelled as one enthusiastic little girl with curly, blonde hair grabbed onto his arm and refused to let go. She looked up at the archaeologist, smiled a toothless grin, and asked, "Are you a knight?"

One man moved through the crowd, gently pushing the others aside until he came to stop in front of SG-1. He was tall, with short, slightly graying brown hair, and while his clothes were not extravagant, they seemed to be a cut above those of the other townspeople. He raised his arm high above his head, and the villagers came to a silence and the little girl reluctantly untangled herself from Daniel's arm.

"Welcome!" The man, obviously the leader, smiled at them and then held an arm to his chest. "I am Trevor Lyall, the mayor of this village of Ancelin. You came through the Gateway?"

"The Stargate, yes," Carter answered. "We're explorers from a planet called Earth."

At the confirmation, the townspeople's excited babbling began again, and Trevor Lyall breathed a sigh of what could only be relief. He ran a hand through his hair and Jack could only just hear him whisper, "We have waited for so long."

The members of SG-1 stared around in confusion, waiting for someone to explain the unusual reaction of the villagers to their presence. More often they were met by hostiles or people frightened by their appearance. Very rarely was SG-1 ever welcomed as heroes before they did anything. Still, Jack thought he'd take this option.

"Why don't we find a place where we can talk more," Carter said.

Broken from his reverie, Lyall jumped back into his leadership role. Jack was surprised to see the man's relief replaced by a nervous energy. "Of course!" he exclaimed. "You need to come inside before anyone else sees you!" He turned and pushed through his people, making a path to the village.

Jack cast a look back at the others. Carter's eyes narrowed in confusion and Teal'c seemed disconcerted about the man's sudden change of emotion. Daniel simply shrugged and began to follow Lyall.

As they walked toward the town, the villagers trailed behind them like a train of teenage girls following the high school's star quarterback. Lyall led SG-1 through the small settlement and stopping at a building located on the perimeter of the central town square. Before ushering them inside, Lyall addressed the mob with urgency. "Go back to your lives and do not act any differently!"

The villagers dispersed quickly; their joy and laughter ceased and they quickly returned to their duties as if nothing had occurred. The little girl who had tugged on Daniel resumed playing with her little friends, and the adults went back to tending their homes. Lyall entered the room after SG-1 then pulled the curtains over the window, plunging the room into a dim light. "Forgive me," he said. "It has been so long; many people had almost given up hope."

Daniel had already moved to the other side of the small space, obviously the mayor's administrative office, in order to examine the extensive collection of books and manuscripts lining the room. "Hope in what?" he asked.

"In the Prophecy," Lyall, still rather flustered, answered. Jack raised his eyebrows and cast a glance at Carter behind him. It was never good when there was a prophecy involved. When he turned back, Trevor Lyall was kneeling in front of him with his head bowed. "We are ready to do anything to ensure your throne is returned to you, my lord."

Okay, now this really had gone too far. Jack rolled his eyes. "That's enough," he said, gruffly. "Get up." He reached down and grabbed the man's shoulder in order to help him to his feet.

Lyall's dark eyes registered surprise. "There is no need to fear, my king. We know who you are."

"Who am I?" Jack returned.

"You are Arthur, the rightful king of Camelot."

Four pairs of eyes stared at the mayor as if he had grown another head.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud…"


	2. Chapter 2 - Just Like Old Times

A/N: I am overwhelmed by the initial response to this story! Thank you so much for your reviews and follows! They are bread and butter to fanfic writers, and we appreciate them immensely. Let's continue on!

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" _There is no need to fear, my king. We know who you are."_

" _Who am I?" Jack returned._

" _You are Arthur, the rightful king of Camelot."_

 _Four pairs of eyes stared at the mayor as if he had grown another head._

" _Oh, for cryin' out loud…"_

Chapter Two – Just Like Old Times

"Look, I think there has been some kind of mistake," Daniel walked over. "I'm not quite sure who you think we are, but we're only explorers from another planet. I'm Daniel Jackson, and this is Teal'c, Colonel Samantha Carter, and this is General Jack O'Neill." He motioned to each of them in turn.

"You are not here to fulfill the Prophecy?" The disappointment in Lyall's voice was evident.

"Of what prophecy do you speak?"

Mayor Lyall sighed and then gestured to the large wooden table in the center of the room, signaling them to sit.

"Over three hundred years ago, this land, the country of Albion, was ruled by the Great King Arthur from his seat in the great city of Camelot. It is said that he ruled with honor, and peace existed throughout the land. Albion prospered and entered a golden era. But toward the end of his life, Arthur was challenged by Mordred, one of his most trusted knights. Arthur fought to protect his throne and his kingdom, but he was mortally wounded by Mordred at the Battle of Camlann. Mordred returned to the city and has ruled this land ever since."

"For hundred of years?" Carter sounded incredulous.

"It is true," Lyall insisted. "Mordred does not grow old. He has ruled for centuries. He is hungry for power: plunging the kingdom into never ending wars with neighboring lands and demanding his subjects pay high taxes to him."

SG-1 exchanged glances around the table. Power-hungry, age-defying ruler? Where had they heard that before? Oh yeah, this day was just getting better and better.

"But there is hope!" Lyall continued. "There has existed a prophecy foretelling that Arthur and his trusted knights will one day return from beyond the stars to rid this land of Mordred. The throne will be reclaimed, and this world will exist in peace once again."

"And you think that we are those knights?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, of course," Lyall answered, turning to Jack. "The noble king. His loyal and daring knights…" he gestured to Daniel and Teal'c, "and his faithful lady, the fair Guinevere." He reached to his left and took ahold of Sam's hand as she stared at him with wide eyes before pulling her hand from him.

"Oh, boy," Jack murmured irritably and covered his face with a hand before looking back at Trevor Lyall. "Look, you've got the wrong people. We did not come here to fulfill your prophecy, and we most certainly are not here to claim a throne."

Lyall looked crestfallen, but continued. "There was much belief that our saviors would return through the Gateway. Mordred buried the Gate so as to dispel that idea. As time went on, he thought we had forgotten about it. But we are a determined people. Years ago, the people of this village found the Gate and excavated it. They left it inside the mountain so as not to draw Mordred's attention. No one has been near the Gate in decades, and so the king will never expect you to be here. Please, you must help us. Camlann and the rest of Albion are falling apart due to Mordred's recklessness."

Daniel looked puzzled. "Camlann? I thought the king ruled from was Camelot."

"After the final battle which ended in Arthur's death, Mordred renamed the great city in honor of his triumph. It is my hope, as well as the hope of all other believers of the Prophecy, that Mordred will be defeated, and the country will be able to be named Camelot again, so that we may return to the peace and glory it used to enjoy."

A quick rap on the door interrupted the mayor's story. A tall, athletic man with straight, blond hair and dark eyes entered. He moved efficiently and came stiffly to attention with his arms at his sides. His posture marked him as a military man, but Jack noticed that the stranger's right arm ended in a stump just below his elbow.

Lyall stood to greet him.

"Lyall," the newcomer said, "the villagers have returned to their duties easily. I do not think we will have a problem when the soldiers arrive."

Jack's hands tightened instinctually around his P-90 as his stood to address the man. "Soldiers?"

Trevor Lyall stepped toward the man and gestured to him in an affable manner. "General Jack O'Neill, this is my assistant and cousin, Jaron Kerr."

Jaron Kerr cast Jack a quick and terse nod, then turned back to the mayor. "The soldiers will be returning in two days, but I am sure the people will not say anything about our guests."

"Again, the soldiers?" Carter asked, her irritation that the question wasn't answered the first time was evident.

Lyall turned back to the table to address the other members of SG-1. "Mordred periodically sends squadrons of his soldiers around the countryside in order to ensure the obedience of the many villages. Generally, they are not very violent; they simply follow Mordred's orders to check on the townspeople and confirm that they are carrying out any commands of the king. They are usually quite punctual and are not scheduled to return to oversee this village for another two days. I do not believe we have anything to worry about."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, however, when a young boy wearing dirty trousers and little else burst through the door.

"Mayor Lyall! The soldiers return early! They are riding toward the village!"

Shock registered on the mayor's face, and Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c also stood, already holding their weapons at ready. The boy rushed out the door and through the streets, which were already filling with running people.

"They mustn't find you here! You will be taken to Mordred and disposed of."

"What are we to do?" Teal'c's deep voice was like a steady rock in comparison to the voice of the nervous mayor.

"You must hide!" Jaron Kerr began pushing the table to the far side of the room. When Jack looked closer, he could see a well-hidden trapdoor in the floor.

He lifted the wooden trapdoor, which was just big enough for one person to comfortably climb down the ladder to the room below. SG-1 peered into the dark space below.

"They will not find you here," Lyall said, but Jack didn't think he sounded very confident. He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself of the truth of his words. "They have no knowledge of your existence. They will leave and then we will return for you."

Trevor Lyall offered Carter his hand to help her down. "My lady."

Sam ignored his hand and rolled her eyes but quickly began making her way down the ladder herself, hampered a bit by her bulky pack that contained the naquadah reactor. Standing by a window, Jack moved back the curtains and looked out over the street, gripping his weapon even more tightly as he waited for Daniel and Teal'c to follow her. He could already see the soldiers riding into the city. Covered in armor from head to toe and riding on tall, dark horses, they were a terrifying sight.

When it was his turn, Jack descended the old ladder into the musty room below. The light from above illuminated the recently stirred dust that had obviously been collecting for years. And then the light was gone as the door was closed behind them. The silence was deafening as they listened for any indication of what was going on outside. Only seconds later, they heard the door of the mayor's office bang open. Heavy footsteps pounded inside and a deep voice ordered Trevor Lyall and Jaron Kerr outside.

Moments later, the same deep voice, muffled now that it was further away, yelled throughout the town. "Citizens of Ancelin, we know of the four newcomers who came through the Gateway! You cannot hide them from us; they will be found! However, you may spare yourselves the trouble by turning them over to us now. Otherwise, this village will suffer for its disobedience!"

The silence was oppressive both inside and outside the hidden room. Jack realized he was holding his breath, waiting for just one of the terrorized villagers to rat them out. It would not be difficult. Every member of the town knew of their coming and knew that they had gone into the mayor's office. But the moments ticked by, and every villager stayed silent.

Moving slowly, Daniel crept back up the ladder in order to lift the trapdoor a fraction of an inch. He was able to observe everything through the still open front door. The soldier's voice, growing in agitation, came through more clearly as he addressed SG-1.

"Show yourselves! Surrender now and you will be shown mercy!"

Jack highly doubted the validity of that statement.

Lowering the trapdoor, Daniel turned back to the others. The room was very dim, but Jack could still make out the look of concern in the younger man's eyes.

"Jack, the soldiers are rounding up the villagers in the square. We have to do something!"

Jack recognized that the situation would only intensify, but they couldn't allow themselves to be captured.

"If you do not show yourselves, I will begin killing off these villagers, one by one!"

Daniel's gaze pinned him to the wall, demanding to know what to do.

From the other side of the room came Carter's calm voice. "Sir, we can't let them die for us."

From the surface, the soldier called out, "So be it!"

There was a sound of armor scraping from the movement, the sound of something soft being grabbed. A young girl wailed in terror and the rest of the village began calling out.

"Jack!"

A woman screamed for her child. The face of another child, dead from his own weapon, flashed in O'Neill's mind.

"Go," he said simply.

Daniel all but ran up the ladder. He pushed open the trapdoor and rushed into the open.

"We surrender!" he yelled. "Don't hurt anyone!"

The voices ceased, and Jack cast a look at his two remaining teammates. He met Teal'c's deep, brown eyes and then Carter's wide, blue ones; their expressions were looks only of resignation. Neither of them blamed Jack for his decision or Daniel for his acting upon it. But now they had no other option but to face their fate above the surface.

Carter was the first to move, but instead of ascending the ladder, she quickly unclipped her pack and dropped it in a corner of the underground room. It would be better if Mordred and his forces didn't know they had any high-power devices. While she did that, Jack looked at Teal'c and gestured toward the ladder; after a slight bow of his head, the Jaffa swiftly climbed up, leaving Jack and Sam alone. Leaving the device, Sam walked into the light streaming down from the open floor, her body poised for whatever fight awaited them on the surface. Her bright eyes were ablaze with adrenaline and something more. Jack hoped it was trust.

Jack held her gaze firmly, silently apologizing for stepping in and making another command decision without her permission. Technically, he didn't need her permission; he still outranked her, but going in, he hadn't wanted to step on her toes. But they were beyond a routine meet 'n' greet mission now. They may be going into a battle situation when they went to the surface, and Jack needed to know where they stood.

"Carter, this mission…"

"It's alright, sir. Just like old times." A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "Feel free to take point."

Jack nodded tightly at her gracious consent, and his gaze became softer. He had no idea into what dangers he was sending his team. Her team. _Their_ team.

He saw Sam's eyes soften for only a second before she steeled herself again and swiftly ascended the ladder.

As soon as she reached the top, Jack took up the rear and climbed into the light above.

 _Just like old times…_


	3. Chapter 3 - Captured

Thank you so much to all of those who are following and reading this story. I'm having a lot of fun with this adventure and hope that you are all as well. I have a real passion for the Arthurian legends, but to be honest, I thought that the mythology was squandered with the Ori storyline, so this fic is my exploration of what I would like to have seen onscreen.

A slightly shorter chapter, but rest assured, more is on the way! Happy Friday to you all! –Jess

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" _Carter, this mission…"_

" _It's alright, sir. Just like old times." A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "Feel free to take point."_

 _Jack nodded tightly at her gracious consent, and his gaze became softer. He had no idea into what dangers he was sending his team. Her team. Their team._

 _He saw Sam's eyes soften for only a second before she steeled herself again and swiftly ascended the ladder._

 _As soon as she reached the top, Jack took up the rear and climbed into the light above._

 _Just like old times…_

Chapter Three – Captured

By the time Samantha Carter emerged from Trevor Lyall's office, her hands were already raised in a universal symbol of defeat. As she took in the vast number of soldiers standing among the villagers or riding on their horses, her upheld fingers twitched for her P-90. She resisted the urge when she saw that one of the soldiers still held his little hostage in his grip. The girl had stopped struggling; her wide, blue eyes caught Sam's gaze and held her there. It was only then that she realized that it was the child who had grabbed onto Daniel's arm when they first arrived.

It occurred to Sam that the little girl had certainly been present when they were led into the mayor's building; now, even under the threat of her own death, she had not given away their position. Sam's heart constricted as she realized that these people truly believed they were here to free them from their oppression.

She held the little girl's gaze until another soldier shoved her forward. Tearing her eyes away, she stumbled after Daniel and Teal'c as they were herded across the street to the village square. By the sound of heavy footsteps behind her, she could tell that General O'Neill was following her.

Many of the other villagers had gathered along the perimeter: no doubt herded there by the scores of soldiers forcing them into the street. Sam and the others were led into the square and stopped in front of the half a dozen soldiers stationed there. She kept her hands in the air but instinctually moved closer toward Daniel and General O'Neill. Five of the soldiers stood on the ground; each looked as solid as Teal'c and just as tall. The sixth, an older, rough-looking man with a bald head, rode atop a large black horse; his full-body suit of armor gleamed in the sunlight. From his voice and the commanding way he roared at those around him, it was obvious that this was the leader who had ordered the death of the villagers if SG-1 had not surrendered.

Sam could not keep the glare off her face as the soldier rode up to where she and her team had been stopped. From his high position, his hard face scowled down upon them, studying them and sizing up the threat they posed.

The General turned to him. "Hey, how ya doin'?" he asked. "You know I think there has been some kind of mistake here."

The man's rough voice cut him off. "You came through the Gateway?"

Daniel answered, "Yes, we did."

"Then there is no mistake." He motioned toward his guards. "Take their weapons. Search them for any others."

Beside her, the General reached to unclip his P-90 and handed it to the approaching soldier. She did the same. "Careful with that," he sarcastically told the man. "You could hurt yourself."

The soldier said nothing, but replied by grabbing the General and ordering him to remove his vest. Trying not to inflame the situation – she was sure General O'Neill would do a good enough job of that himself – Sam stripped her outer layer off and handed the nearest soldier her zat, Beretta, and her dive knife. He accepted them all and placed them in a nearby wooden, supply cart. Expecting to have all weapons taken from them, Sam was grateful she had thought to leave her pack holding the naquadah generator in the underground room beneath Lyall's office. After SG-1 escaped, they would be able to return to the village and recover the generator in order to go home. In an ideal world, of course, but when was that ever the case?

Sam had hoped her compliance would mean the soldiers would skip the frisk down, but no such dice. One of the soldiers grabbed her and felt his way along her body, way too close for comfort. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw the General carefully watching the whole exchange; his dark eyes glittered dangerously as the man searched her for any hidden weapons. Satisfied that he found nothing of suspicion, the soldier left to report to his superior.

Looking around, Sam noted that all four of them had been searched and any weapons had been confiscated. That would make it extremely difficult to mount an escape, though with the number of soldiers surrounding the area, it probably would not have mattered anyway.

The commander dismounted his horse and made his way over to SG-1. At his side hung a long sheathed sword. Its hilt was ornately decorated and made of fine gold.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"We are explorers from another world," Daniel answered truthfully. "We came through the Gateway, but we came here only to learn about you and your culture…"

"Silence!" the man ordered, his face darkening. "I will not listen to your lies. I have heard all I need to know. You will be taken before our King Mordred, and he will decide how you shall be dealt with."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. We're not who you think we are!"

The commander turned on the General, pulling his sword from its sheath with a loud metallic sound. He aimed it at him, its point angled next to his jugular.

"You will come," the man said menacingly. "You will not escape the wrath of our king."

The commander sheathed his weapon, turned back to his men and mounted his large stallion. "Tie them up," he ordered. "We will set out for the city of Camlann today."

Immediately, a lone guard approached them with a length of heavy rope. Carter turned to O'Neill, silently asking what to do. The General met her glance with resigned but determined eyes. He had carefully analyzed the situation, she knew, but right now there was no way they could escape back to the Stargate without causalities to themselves or the villagers. They would escape; now just wasn't the right time. He casually raised an eyebrow and nodded his head: an affirmation to comply with the soldiers. At least for now.

The soldier quickly began tethering SG-1 together to the rope, forcing them into a single file line. His knot tying was tight and skillful, and Sam had little hope for simply wiggling out anytime soon.

"Wait!" Looking around, the leader of the soldiers motioned toward Trevor Lyall and Jaron Kerr. "They were both in the room with those who came through the Gateway. Bring them as well."

Both men were surprised and resistant, but neither had much choice in the matter, and within moments, Lyall and Jaron Kerr joined the train that roped SG-1 together.

The end of the rope was then tied to the back of one of the heavy supply wagons. When the leader of the soldiers gave the order to assemble and prepare to move out, SG-1 found themselves surrounded on all sides by soldiers on horseback and dozens of foot soldiers following not far behind.

The legion began to disembark on the road leading out of the town. The still assembled villagers looked on; their disheartened expressions followed SG-1. As they passed by Mayor Lyall's office, Sam once again caught the glance the little blonde girl on her left. Thankfully, she was safe: tucked under the arm of a woman Sam figured must be her mother. But her excited and playful blue eyes had become hauntingly sad. They screamed for help for her village, terrorized and beaten into submission by the soldiers. They pleaded for change that the young girl had never known.

And when the last of the soldiers had exited the town, their fearsome leader left his place at the head of the squadron. Now holding a large, flaming torch in his right hand, he turned to face the village. SG-1 pulled on the rope in order to turn to see him.

"Ancelin commoners," the man yelled. "For refusing to obey the King's soldiers and obstructing justice by remaining silent, this village shall be punished."

With the verdict given, he threw the torch into the town. It landed on the thatched roof of one of the homes, and the flames literally spread like wildfire. The fire engulfed a row of homes in an instant. Thick, black smoke filled the air, and the screams of the frightened villagers pierced Sam's heart.

Her thoughts drifted to the naquadah generator still beneath Trevor Lyall's office. Its heat shield would protect it from the flames so that it would not melt – or worse, explode. It would survive the fire even if the village did not.

Unable to bear the screams of the villagers any longer, Sam turned away from the scene. Directly in front of her, the General was leveling daggers at the commander who had just rendered an entire town homeless. The commander's heartless glare met the General's, their narrowed eyes locking for a moment before he rode away and gave the command to move out.

The caravan started out again; the screams of the villagers grew dimmer and dimmer, but the sound never seemed to leave Sam's mind.


	4. Chapter 4 - Winging It

Thanks for your continued reading and support of RoKA! It's been a very busy week, so my apologies for not responding to those wonderful enough to send some reviews. I'd still love to hear of all of your thoughts on this fic: what you like, what you don't… we'll be turning up the action pretty soon here!

Enjoy!

* * *

 _Unable to bear the screams of the villagers any longer, Sam turned away from the scene. Directly in front of her, the General was leveling daggers at the commander who had just rendered an entire town homeless. The commander's heartless glare met the General's, their narrowed eyes locking for a moment before he rode away and gave the command to move out._

 _The caravan started out again; the screams of the villagers grew dimmer and dimmer, but the sound never seemed to leave Sam's mind._

Chapter Four – Winging It

If it hadn't been for the hoards of soldiers surrounding the campsite, Daniel Jackson figured resting beneath the clear sky of the planet might be peaceful and relaxing. Oh, and if he and his friends hadn't still been tethered together and tied to a giant tree.

After marching for nearly six hours, the squadron was finally allowed to rest for the night. They had trekked over hills and through valleys, past rivers and fields and forests. Night had descended quickly as two bright and full moons rose into the sky, and the clear sky showed every unfamiliar star pattern. Daniel was sure that this was one of the most beautiful planets they had ever visited, but even now, its beauty had been marred with the memory of burning village.

The commander had lit the town on fire, and then given the order to move out. Forced to march behind the supply wagon, Daniel tried hard to block out the frenzied screams of the villagers. He could see that Jack, tethered two places in front of him, was having to physically restrain himself to keep from doing anything. As much as they all wanted to help, they all knew that it would be impossible. They were defenseless, captured, and surrounded by dozens of trained soldiers. Still, the event had left Daniel with a bitter taste of guilt in his mouth, and he found himself replaying the moment over and over, wondering what they could have done differently.

Nothing, he thought, a little bitterness creeping into his thoughts. They couldn't have done anything differently because they really hadn't done _anything_ yet. They'd come through the Stargate. The villagers worshiped them because they came through the Stargate. They were captured because they came through the Stargate. The village of Ancelin was destroyed because they came through the Stargate. They hadn't done anything but they'd already managed to make the situation worse.

"Daniel Jackson." Daniel started from his reverie when he heard Teal'c's deep voice on his right. He gratefully accepted the water cask their captors had offered them. The tepid liquid tasted stale, but he wasn't complaining. This was the only rest they had gotten since leaving Ancelin to burn to the ground. He swallowed a mouthful and then awkwardly handed the cask off to Sam with his bound hands. Jack was next to Sam and Lyall and Jaron Kerr were next to Jack.

Lyall ignored the water cask Jack offered him; instead, he simply stared into the darkness. He had not said anything since leaving Ancelin, and it was obvious to him that Lyall was still dealing with the shock of the destruction of his village. On the other hand, Jaron Kerr had responded with action. The scowl on his face was evident as he examined the knot keeping the six of them tied to the tree.

Jack used both hands to point across the soldiers' encampment. Following his gaze, Daniel saw the squadron commander weaving between tethered horses and clusters of tents. His full suit of armor glistened in the light of the many campfires, and fiery reflections played across it as he moved quickly from one side of the camp to the other.

"So, what do we know about _that_ guy?" Jack asked.

"His name is Commander Yorath," Jaron Kerr remarked.

"Your-ass?" Jack quipped, and Daniel caught Sam trying to hide a smirk.

"He is the high commander of all of Mordred's forces," Jaron continued. "His family has served the king for centuries; he is only the latest member of his line to be appointed as high commander by Mordred."

"Don't they start to think something's wrong when a ruler continues living for hundreds of years?" asked Sam.

"Maybe they're in on it," said Jaron. "If anything, they understand that Mordred's reign ensures the continual wealth and influence of their family. Yorath is one of the king's most trusted military advisors. Mordred may make the laws in Albion, but Yorath makes sure they're enforced. This country has been waging war against our neighboring countries sporadically for hundreds of years: all due to Mordred and Yorath's desires to expand and conquer."

"What kind of military strength do they possess?" asked Jack.

"Some men enlist voluntarily, but normally, Mordred maintains his army by requiring the enlistment of a certain quota of men from each village to become soldiers. Trevor and I both served under Commander Yorath in our younger years during the Fourth Iernean War."

Daniel saw Jack raise an eyebrow. It came as no shock that Jaron Kerr had been a soldier, but Daniel assumed Jack's surprise was that the nervous and uneasy Mayor Lyall had also been in the army.

"Each man is required to serve for six years," Jaron held up his stump of an arm and eyed it bitterly, "barring any unforeseen circumstances."

Daniel's brow furrowed at the acid in the man's voice. There was obviously a story behind how Jaron Kerr lost his hand, but Daniel didn't think now was the right time to ask. After a tense moment, Jaron gave a sigh and lowered his arm before continuing. "After that, each soldier is allowed to return home, and another man is chosen to take his place."

Daniel looked around at the multitude of young soldiers mulling about around them. Some of them looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. It sickened him to think that the majority of these soldiers were being forced to do the bidding of an oppressive tyrant. Some of them may have even come from the village that had just been destroyed by their commander.

"Jaron, where are we going from here?" Sam asked.

"They will take us to the castle in the city of Camlann. There is no doubt that the king will execute us all for perpetuating belief in the myth of Arthur's return. Mordred will not tolerate anyone planting the seeds of rebellion in this country."

"You know that's not what we were doing, right?" Daniel asked. "We aren't here to fulfill the Prophecy."

"I believe you," Jaron said, "but that will not matter to Mordred. Whether you fulfill the return of King Arthur or not, you have reignited the hope that it will happen. Mordred will get rid of you to reassert his power over this country."

"What kind of defenses can we expect in the city?" Jack asked.

"Camlann is situated on a tall, rocky hill. It is a coastal city, surrounded by a large stone wall on three sides and the Albion Ocean behind it. The only way in or out is through one of the three gates on each side of the city. The castle is further guarded by its own wall, and soldiers patrol the city constantly."

"So it'd probably be best to skedaddle before we reach the city," said Jack. "Anybody have any ideas about how we're going to do that?"

"O'Neill," Teal'c's soft voice was hopeful. Daniel turned to look at his friend who was holding the rope in his now unbound hands. Apparently being on the end of the rope had allowed him to use the untied end to skillfully pull the knot loose. "I am free."

"Now, _that's_ what I wanted to hear!" Jack was careful to keep his enthusiastic response quiet.

* * *

Teal'c remained still and patiently watched the dying embers of the campfires as he and his team waited for the last of the soldiers to retire to their tents. He did not wish to alert those who were still awake to the fact that he had removed his restraints.

Escape would not be easy. He assumed that a guard perimeter would be stationed throughout the night to keep watch over the squadron, but this night was the only viable option for escape. As O'Neill would say, it was now or never.

Considering how well they had been tied, Teal'c figured Commander Yorath had not seen a reason to post a guard near Trevor Lyall, Jaron Kerr, and SG-1. If all went as planned, Teal'c thought, he would regret that mistake. It should be simple enough to slip into the forest and begin making their way back toward the Stargate. Hopefully, no one would notice their disappearance until morning, and by that time they would be back at the 'gate. It was unfortunate that they would have to stick close to the road in order to find their way back, but the moons were bright and their going would be relatively unhindered since they would not be traveling with a squadron of soldiers. Certainly the plan was vague, but SG-1 had done well with less detailed plans than this.

The final few soldiers disappeared into their tents, and Teal'c waited precious minutes longer before turning to his left. "Daniel Jackson," he whispered and offered him his hands. The archaeologist responded silently, turning gently toward the Jaffa so Teal'c could untie him. The going was slow because they had to be so quiet, and the seconds stretched into minutes as Teal'c's deft fingers sought to undo the knot.

Just as he knew he had achieved the task, Colonel Carter's quiet voice found him. "Teal'c, someone's coming."

It was difficult to remain calm, even for Teal'c. He had hoped to have all of the captives untied by now. He fought to stay focused and not worry about the soldier stirring about.

"Teal'c," O'Neill hissed. "Take Daniel and get out of here. Get back to the 'gate and bring reinforcements."

Teal'c felt Daniel Jackson's knot fall away and stealthily moved to Colonel Carter's side. The rustling was increasing in intensity; he knew he wouldn't be able to release all of them.

"He's right," she said. "Go back and find the naquadah generator so that you can dial out manually."

Teal'c felt Daniel Jackson's hand on his shoulder, but he hesitated in his decision. All the years of never leaving anyone behind told him to refuse General O'Neill's order. However, he was not going to be able to get everyone out and getting to the 'gate and bringing reinforcements could be their only chance of escaping this planet.

The stiff sound of rustling fabric indicated that a tent had been opened. "Teal'c! Get out of here!" O'Neill command left little leeway for staying.

Teal'c grasped Colonel Carter's still bound hands and looked straight in her eyes. "We will return," he promised. In the bright moonlight, he could see her firm, unwavering nod. She did not doubt him.

With that, Teal'c and Daniel dashed into the trees surrounding them, trying to remain as silent as possible. So far, there had not been any yelling to indicate their escape had been detected, but Teal'c was sure it would be discovered soon enough.

They ran deeper into the forest, trying to put substantial distance between them and the main road. After a couple minutes, Daniel Jackson came to a halt in a small clearing. The two moons illuminated his adrenaline filled eyes. "Shouldn't we start making our way back toward the Stargate?" he asked, panting slightly.

"Indeed." Teal'c still felt it unfortunate that this planet was unknown terrain and they would have to keep near to the road to find their way back, but that could not be helped.

Teal'c led off in an arc, leading back to the road on which the military caravan had traveled. They set off back in the direction of the burned down village and the Stargate, running at a quick but manageable pace and always making sure that they remained out of sight of any patrols that could be searching for them. It was a wise move, because even if their disappearance had not yet been discovered at the camp, the country roads were infested with military patrols.

Whenever one would go by, the two men would huddle down beneath the forest's dense brush and wait for them to go by. It had not been long after they had set out that, huddled beneath a low, leafy bush, Daniel Jackson turned to Teal'c. With his eyebrows furrowed, he whispered, "So Teal'c, once we get back, do you know how to attach the naquadah generator to the 'gate?"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, I do not, Daniel Jackson."

The other man nodded. "Alright, so we're just winging it."

The eyebrow went even higher. "What is 'winging it?'" Teal'c whispered.

* * *

Happy Friday, and have a great weekend, everyone! -Jess


	5. Chapter 5 - Worth a Try

Happy Friday, everyone! Continued thanks for all of wonderful reviews and follows. They mean the world to me! Have a lovely weekend! -Jess

* * *

 _Teal'c led off in an arc, leading back to the road on which the military caravan had traveled. They set off back in the direction of the burned down village and the Stargate, running at a quick but manageable pace and always making sure that they remained out of sight of any patrols that could be searching for them. It was a wise move, because even if their disappearance had not yet been discovered at the camp, the country roads were infested with military patrols._

 _Whenever one would go by, the two men would huddle down beneath the forest's dense brush and wait for them to go by. It had not been long after they had set out that, huddled beneath a low, leafy bush, Daniel Jackson turned to Teal'c. With his eyebrows furrowed, he whispered, "So Teal'c, once we get back, do you know how to attach the naquadah generator to the 'gate?"_

 _Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, I do not, Daniel Jackson."_

 _The other man nodded. "Alright, so we're just winging it."_

 _The eyebrow went even higher. "What is 'winging it?'" Teal'c whispered._

Chapter Five – Worth a Try

Jack pondered his situation while trying to sleep. What he found was that it was unsurprisingly difficult to find a comfortable sleeping position with your hands tied in front of you while lying on a forest floor. His hands were numb from being bound together for so long, and to compound it, his knee was stiff from the march the previous day, and his hips and back were killing him from lying on his side on the uneven ground. Age was a bitch, he concluded sourly.

Still, he wasn't going to move. Because pressed up against his back was Carter's back, and that was the only part of his body that was warm. In fact, it was probably the only part of his body that wasn't shivering from the cold air. Obviously, nights on P8X-579 got chilly, and their captors hadn't considered giving them blankets or shelter of any kind. Still, Jack had determined that their best course of action would be to try to get some rest to prepare for whatever came tomorrow.

Jack tried to block out the cold by focusing on the warmth at his back. An errant thought whispered that the closest he'd ever get to sleeping with Samantha Carter was sleeping _next_ to Samantha Carter, and Jack's face contorted in a scowl. He still wasn't thinking about that or this crap situation.

Still, he could tell from the slight jostling movements that the woman next to him was definitely not sleeping and wasn't trying to. Instead, he could tell that Carter was still fiddling with the rope knotting her hands together, hoping to finish what Teal'c had been able to start. He could hear her nearly imperceptible grunts of frustration as she fought to free herself. When her elbow knocked into his ribs, he fought against his own restraints to turn over and face her.

"Carter," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized for the rude elbow.

"You know, as much as I'd like to get out of here, I think its safe to say that we're not going to make it far enough before our charming and friendly hosts find out that we're gone. Daniel and Teal'c already have a two hour lead on us; maybe it's best to just wait for them to bring back help."

She rolled over to face him as well, and in the light of the planet's double moons, he could see the tired worry in her eyes. "General, neither Daniel or Teal'c know how to interface the naquadah generator with the Stargate. I'm not sure if they'll be able to bring back help from the SGC."

"They'll figure it out, Carter."

She looked at him sharply. "But sir, what if the generator is buried beneath the remains of the village?"

"Then they'll dig it out."

"We have no way of knowing…"

"Carter!" Jack lowered his voice. "Carter, trust them. We're going to get out of this."

She gave a small nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now try to get some sleep. I need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for when we get out of here tomorrow."

Her second "yes, sir," was quieter than the first; she was already drifting off now that she'd been given the go ahead to stop trying to find a way out. Despite their situation, Jack's lips quirked into a smile. He never doubted that he had the best and most loyal team in the galaxy. Their devotion and loyalty to SG-1 was unparalleled, and Jack had no doubt they'd get off this planet together.

His smile disappeared when a set of heavy footsteps and clanking metal made their way over to the tree to which they were tied. When they abruptly stopped and then turned in the direction of the camp, Jack knew they had been found out. He reached out to Carter and tapped her on the shoulder. "Carter."

She started awake. "Sir?"

He sat up. "We've been made." He turned to the two men on his left and shook them awake as well.

Less than a minute later, a loud, harsh voice emerged from a tent, ordering a regiment to be assembled to go after the fugitives. Commander Yorath stepped into the moonlight. He was already fully dressed, and Jack wondered if he slept in that suit of armor.

Already fires were being relit and the other men ordered to wake up. Yorath marched over to his captives, his face contorted in a scowl of rage. "Where are the others?" he demanded.

"What others?" replied Jack. But Yorath's deadly glare told him that playing dumb would not work long. So instead, Jack raised his bound hands in a gesture of mock recognition. "Oh, you mean _those_ others! They just went off to use the commode. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be back in a few."

As if he had to feel it for himself, Yorath stomped over to the long trail of rope. He reached down and picked it up, running his large hands over the frays that showed how hard Teal'c had worked to free himself. He moved along its length until he came to Carter. It was obvious that Carter had made some good progress in loosening the rope. Yorath wrenched her from her seated position so that she was standing in front of him. Holding both of her wrists securely in one large hand, he then retied the knot himself. Clearly angry about his escaped prisoners, he yanked the rope hard, ensuring that this time it was properly sealed. From his position, Jack could see the grimace on Carter's face, but she hid her pain well.

Content that she wouldn't be able to escape, Yorath placed a heavy hand on Carter's shoulder and pushed her back to the ground. He then turned to address his subordinates. He ordered one of the lesser officers to take a contingent of soldiers and head back in the direction of the Gateway.

"We are not leaving this place until we find the other two."

* * *

Daniel bent over and placed his hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. They had now been running for nearly three hours and anticipated at least a two more to go. In front of him, Teal'c was studying the landscape intently, trying to determine which way to go. Daniel let out an exasperated sigh and squashed down an unreasonable surge of jealousy as he realized that Teal'c was hardly breaking a sweat. The archeologist knew that his physical abilities had increased dramatically in the last eight years, but he knew he'd never rival the nearly inexhaustible endurance of the Jaffa warrior. He was like the Energizer bunny.

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's deep – and notably _not_ exhausted – voice called him over. Daniel forced one more breath into his lungs and picked his way across the dense forest undergrowth to his teammate.

"What's going on?"

Teal'c motioned in front of them. Daniel looked and realized that the forest abruptly ended, and the entire landscape was covered in cleared farmland. Daniel remembered walking past this area before; he had wanted to know what kind of technology these people had that allowed them to make such straight rows for their crops in the soil. Now, his intellectual fascination faded to dismay. Other than the knee-high crops that looked like this planet's equivalent of corn, the fields offered no protection, and went on for as far as the eye could see in all directions. The only way back to the Stargate was on the road or directly through the fields.

"We have to go through there, don't we?"

"Indeed."

"Figures," Daniel sighed. "Well, we'll just have to be quick about it and get back into the forest as fast as possible."

Teal'c didn't have to be told twice. He made his way out of the woods, scanning the surroundings for any patrols and then took off at a run. Daniel followed, mentally preparing himself for another long run.

The going was easy enough since they were able to run in between the rows of crops. At least they weren't tripping over the dense forest underbrush anymore. Even better, after several exhausting minutes, they could see the edge of this field on the horizon, where the reappearance of the forest signaled another place to rest. A flicker of hope arose in Daniel before he heard a faint cry from behind.

Turning his head, he caught the sight of a lone rider on horseback. In the clear moonlight, he could still make out the armor covering his body that signaled he was a soldier. Behind him, a dozen more horses began to appear, and the contingent began galloping down the road.

"Teal'c!" Daniel called to the Jaffa, who was already a dozen large paces in front of him. He also turned and realized they'd been spotted. "Go!"

The soldiers were already in the field, racing toward them. Daniel forced his legs to pump harder; the adrenaline carried him faster than he thought possible. If they could just make it to the forest, perhaps the horses wouldn't be able to follow.

But even now, he knew that wouldn't happen. He could hear the thundering hoof beats of the horses behind him. They were getting closer and closer, and suddenly, they were all around him. Daniel skidded to a halt to avoid running into the soldier who had stopped his horse directly in front of him. He swerved and tried to dodge out of the way, but ran right into another man who had already dismounted. Daniel quickly felt the many hands of other soldiers who were attempting to subdue him. He struggled, but knew he had little hope of getting out.

He noticed other horses still flying down the field in pursuit of Teal'c. He was almost at the tree line! Daniel was convinced he'd make it. And then one of the soldiers raised his bow and took aim.

"Teal'c! Run!" Daniel screamed.

The soldier fired; the arrow hit its mark. Teal'c crumpled to the dirt, the arrow protruding all the way through his right calf. As the first soldiers enclosed on him, Teal'c scrambled to his feet and turned on them. He landed a solid punch on the side of one man's face and bowled through another like a linebacker before four burly guys all but jumped on top of him. Seconds later, the soldiers stood, revealing a very hog-tied and very pissed looking Jaffa.

Resigned, Daniel gave little resistance as his own captors forced him to his feet and tied his hands together. When he heard a pain filled grunt, he looked over at Teal'c. The soldiers stood around him, arguing quietly but insistently. Daniel figured they were trying to decide what to do about the arrow in their captive's leg. He knew that under regular circumstances, it was best to immobilize the arrow in order to keep it from doing any more damage until a physician could safely remove it. However, there was no physician present, and they were hours away from the soldier's encampment. They wouldn't be able to keep Teal'c's leg immobile all the way back.

The soldiers seemed to know this too. Something had to be done. It occurred to Daniel that they probably didn't care if he bled out, since as far as Daniel could tell, their executions were waiting in Camlann anyway. Still, he was shocked when the leader of the contingent, a lesser officer under Yorath's command, gave the order. Three of the men knelt along Teal'c's body and held it firmly to the ground. The fourth man untied Teal'c's legs and grabbed hold of the wooden arrow. Daniel flinched as the soldier deftly snapped the spine of the arrow, severing its tail. From his position, Daniel could make out Teal'c's wince of pain and his clenched jaw, but in true Jaffa stoicism, he refused to cry out in front of his captors. The arrow was then drawn straight through his calf until the long shaft finally appeared.

Another soldier had already taken off his undershirt to wrap Teal'c's wound. Even from Daniel's position, the shirt looked dirty and soaked with sweat; if Janet had been alive, Daniel thought sorrowfully, she would have pitched a fit about the unsanitary treatment.

The shirt was ripped up and packed around the wound before it was wrapped up, and then Teal'c was jerked of the ground. Daniel watched as Teal'c, who still looked pissed as hell, limped along with the soldiers, who led him over to the soldiers' horses. With great difficulty, he mounted one of the horses, and another was brought for Daniel to ride. Daniel's initial optimism at being allotted a horse to ride tempered as his hands were again tied in front of him and the horse secured to the animal in front of him. Obviously, they'd make better time back to the camp if their prisoners didn't have to walk, but these soldiers weren't taking any chances that they'd escape again.

Daniel looked straight ahead at the long road that would lead them back to where they had started. He sighed. It had been worth a try.


	6. Chapter 6 - Camlann

And it's Friday again, so here's another chapter! Hope that you're all still enjoying this story! I absolutely love hearing (reading?) what you all think of it!

Just a note: this chapter contains a reference to the SGA episode "Letters From Pegasus," which would have occurred slightly before the end of SG-1 Season 8 since that season aired concurrently with SGA Season 1.

And on to Camlann (Camelot)! -Jess

* * *

 _Daniel watched as Teal'c, who still looked pissed as hell, limped along with the soldiers, who led him over to the soldiers' horses. With great difficulty, he mounted one of the horses, and another was brought for Daniel to ride. Daniel's initial optimism at being allotted a horse to ride tempered as his hands were again tied in front of him and the horse secured to the animal in front of him. Obviously, they'd make better time back to the camp if their prisoners didn't have to walk, but these soldiers weren't taking any chances that they'd escape again._

 _Daniel looked straight ahead at the long road that would lead them back to where they had started. He sighed. It had been worth a try._

Chapter Six - Camlann

Sam hadn't noticed that she'd actually fallen asleep until she became aware that she was leaning on General O'Neill's shoulder. Her first conscious thought was that her right side was much warmer than the left. She instinctually turned into that side to be closer to the warmth and found herself huddling into the scratchy material of his BDU jacket. She opened her eyes and met Jack's warm gaze.

"Mornin'."

For the briefest of moments, Sam considered how much she wanted to wake up to those dark eyes every morning, but that was a thought for another time. Right now, he was still her commanding officer, and they were still captured on another planet. Sam awoke quickly as her memory of the past day returned, and she pushed herself up into a seated position against the back of the large tree they were still tethered to. She wrapped her arms around her knees to compensate for the lost heat, not wanting to admit how much she missed the closeness.

"Sorry, sir."

The General waved his bound hands in a nonchalant manner. "You needed the sleep."

He was right, she knew. She had wasted more than half the night trying to untie herself. She had expected Yorath to question them after Daniel and Teal'c's escape, but the silent commander had little to ask of them. After all, he knew where they would be headed. The Stargate was their only way off the planet.

"How long was I out?" Sam looked up at the sky, noting that the two moons had set, and the light began to peak over the horizon, casting a light glow over the campsite. Most of the soldiers were rummaging around, packing up tents and stamping out the remnants of their campfires.

"Only about two hours." That explained the encompassing fuzziness in her head and the general hung-over feeling. "Danny and Teal'c have been gone for nearly five though," he said, looking at his watch. "I'll bet they've made it back to the Stargate by now."

"If they haven't been caught," Sam reminded him.

"If they haven't…" Jack wasn't able to concur with her worries before the sound of a dozen horses returning brought them both to their feet. Sam could sense Jaron Kerr and Trevor Lyall standing up as well.

The obviously tired animals galloped into the camp, and Sam exhaled resignedly when she saw both Daniel and Teal'c among them. They looked dirty and exhausted.

The soldiers halted and dismounted, and then one cut the rope around Daniel's hands and pulled him off his horse. Another soldier cut the binds on Teal'c's hands and, to Sam's surprise, let him dismount for himself. As the Jaffa slowly lowered himself to the ground, Sam noticed the dark bandage wrapped around his leg. Well, really, it was clear that the bandage had started out white, which made the sight all the more disconcerting.

Commander Yorath marched over to the returning soldiers. "Well done, Captain," he said tersely.

"Thank you, sir," the officer who had been put in charge of capturing Daniel and Teal'c fidgeted nervously, but was clearly pleased by the compliment.

"Ready the prisoners. We move out as soon as the camp is dismantled."

The officer looked startled. "Sir, the horses are tired, they need to rest," he argued.

Yorath began to walk away, but the other man ran after him.

"Commander Yorath!" The officer approached him beseechingly. "The dark one is injured. He will not be able to keep up on foot."

Yorath cast a glance at Teal'c's injury and then glared at the man. "It is your fault he was injured. If he dies, you will be held responsible."

Yorath stomped away, leaving the startled officer no say in the matter. He turned then and guided Daniel and Teal'c back to the tree Sam and the General were still tethered to. Sam couldn't miss the noticeable limp in the Jaffa's step. Daniel didn't miss it either, and he moved closer to let his teammate with his arm to support him. The fact that Teal'c accepted without question told Sam that the wound was serious.

"Hey guys!" Jack quipped. "Nice rescue ya got goin' here."

Daniel rolled his eyes and helped Teal'c sit down on the ground before collapsing next to Sam. When the officer brought back a second length of rope, Daniel held out his hands and allowed them to be retied. As he moved to retie Teal'c's hands as well, Sam noticed just how young the officer was. He couldn't have been more than 18 or 19 years old. His dark eyes met hers, and then he turned and was gone.

* * *

The remaining two-hour march into the city passed uneventfully. Commander Yorath had increased the number of guards surrounding SG-1, but he needn't have worried. There was no way they would be able to make another break for it in broad daylight, even if their hands had been untied and Teal'c uninjured. With that in mind, Daniel made it a priority to continue making note of any memorable geographical surroundings that may help them find their way back to the 'gate and piecing together what he knew of King Arthur.

It was possible that a real Arthur had existed on Earth in the 6th century, but if that figure had been a great military commander, he had been little more than that. He hadn't been a king, and there had been no castle at Camelot or Knights of the Round Table. Those and other details had been added to the story as the legend grew and were recorded by later writers like Geoffrey of Monmouth and Sir Thomas Malory. On earth, the stories of King Arthur were only popular medieval legends, but on this planet, those legends were history. The concept really was fascinating, and Daniel found himself theorizing how such stories could have remained virtually identical on two completely separate planets.

Such speculation could be saved for later, Daniel decided. It was more important to understand how the stories were understood on this planet, Albion. For example, when Mayor Lyall had addressed them as Arthurian figures, he called Sam, as Guinevere, the "faithful" lady of the king. Perhaps the history of this planet didn't include the queen's affair with Sir Lancelot: a staple of the legends on Earth.

Of course, the legends on Earth also said that both Arthur _and_ Mordred had died in the Battle of Camlann, the dying former mortally wounding the latter, and that obviously wasn't the case here. But the rest of the story could have come right out of Malory's _Le Morte d'Arthur_ , and Daniel figured that that might come in handy in the future.

One part of the story that was the same on both worlds was the prophecy that Arthur would one day return from the dead. Many of the people of Albion were eager to accept that the arrival of SG-1 signaled the return of Arthur and the knights, and while that fact was at the moment leading the team to its impending doom, it could also prove to be a way to gain support from those who, like the Ancelinian villagers, had remained faithful to Arthur.

Daniel felt the rope tethering his hands pull as Teal'c stumbled behind him. His Jaffa friend quickly regained his balance, but his soft grunt proved that he really was in a lot of pain. Daniel couldn't help but worry about his condition. Considering he no longer carried a symbiote, Teal'c required medical care as the rest of his teammates would. Without it, the wound could easily become infected and lead to the need to amputate the leg before septic shock set in and killed him.

But considering they were on the way to their deaths already, Commander Yorath and his guards probably saw little reason to expend their medical supplies, if they even had any.

To the left, Sam, Jack, and the two Ancelinians were still tethered to the original rope. Lyall and Jaron Kerr trudged along with blank faces, and neither of Daniel's teammates seemed to be looking for a way to escape. Sam did glance back in order to ascertain Teal'c's condition. After seeing his struggle even to keep up with the convoy, she caught Daniel's eyes. To anyone else, her expression was one of stoic indifference, but after knowing her for so long, he could catch the subtleties in her pointed look that betrayed her concern.

Daniel gave a little smile in hopes of comforting her, but Sam held his eyes for only a moment longer before facing forward again. Daniel turned back to take in the landscape and sighed when he realized that all of the trees and hills and roads were beginning to look alike.

* * *

The city of Camlann and the surrounding countryside looked like it came out of one of those Disney movies Cassie had loved so much when she had first come to Earth. It looked like the castle in Sleeping Beauty, Sam decided. Or maybe something out of Errol Flynn's The Adventures of Robin Hood that she used to watch with her dad. The inhabitants of the crowded city, dressing in drab garments and mulling about with carts and baskets, contributed to that image, but their terrified stares as the soldiers' procession made its way through the cobblestone streets made the whole scene seem less like a fairy tale.

The dark, oppressive rain clouds didn't make for a very picturesque scene either. The dirt road was wet and slippery, and it was beginning to rain harder. Even with her hands bound, Sam was able to fish her green cap out of one of her pockets. She put it on her head, but it was only of marginal help in keeping the cold droplets off her head and face.

The journey had taken another three hours after they'd started out that morning. Slowly, the forests had turned into farmland again, and soon after that, more and more houses had appeared until they'd walked through the walls of the city. Three stories high and at least a half dozen feet wide, the walls looked like they encompassed the entire city.

The uneven roads wound their way between rows of thatched roof houses and shops. Wherever they walked, the villagers dashed out of the street and pressed themselves up against the buildings to get out of way of the soldiers. From their position still walking behind the supply cart, SG-1 could see Commander Yorath, riding atop his dark horse, at the front of the cavalcade. His stony expression remained unchanged, but he rode tall, clearly enjoying the response of the cowering citizens.

The people didn't seem surprised by the inclusion of prisoners in the procession, but Sam caught more than a few people pointing at them after the guards had past them. They seemed to note the strangeness of their BDUs, and just one man dared to whisper the word "Prophecy."

They passed by an open area that seemed to serve as both a marketplace and a town square. Sam tried desperately to ignore the elevated platform that held a dark boulder, obviously meant as the execution block. An axe lay propped against the discolored stone.

Sam shook her head and focused instead on remembering the layout of the city. Smaller roads jutted off into circuitous streets and alleyways – there didn't seem to be a right angle in the city at all – but the main road that they traversed led up to the enormous stone castle that sat atop a rather large hill.

The castle itself was a motley assortment of walls and towers that rose high above the rest of the city. The white limestone-like bricks had dulled to a light grey with time and wear, but it was obvious that it had been built to be a beautiful structure. Still, maybe it was because of their current situation or the oppressive dark clouds that hovered above, but Sam thought that the castle gave off a menacing appearance as well. The walls were dotted with many tall, arched windows, but for the most part, the castle looked incredibly solid. It may have been designed to be beautiful, but it was also a fortress prepared for battle.

The castle was surrounded by its own wall, which was just as tall as the city walls and at least twice as thick. The entrance had a metal portcullis that could be raised or lowered to let people in. Or keep people from getting out, Sam's mind whispered to her. Yorath commanded it be raised, "In the name of the king, Mordred," and then they were walking through the gate.

Once through, the majority of the soldiers pealed off together, likely going to their quarters or the stables. Only Yorath and a small ground contingent remained, including the officer that had been in charge of bringing Teal'c and Daniel back. Yorath dismounted and sent his horse away with a foot soldier. Coming over, he bade his subordinates surround the prisoners before untying the two ropes that tethered SG-1, Trevor Lyall, and Jaron Kerr to the back of the cart. He sent the cart away, and then handed the ropes over to two of the soldiers before turning and marching away. He motioned for the soldiers to follow, and they all marched up the flight of stairs that led to the castle's main doors.

To her right, Sam heard Teal'c's pained grunt as he fought to climb the steps. In front of her, General O'Neill glanced back to see how he was doing, and Sam did the same. The Jaffa's jaw was clenched tighter than a vice, and though he tried to walk normally, it was clear that every step was torture. It would make breaking out even more difficult.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Teal'c looked poised, stoic, and a little like he was about to pass out, but they were probably the only ones who could see that. Sam said a small prayer that he'd be all right now that they got here. Well, all right, relatively speaking, considering they were being led inside to meet a king who was already determined to execute them for fitting into the roles of an ancient prophecy.

Heavy wooden doors swung open, and then they were inside the castle's Great Hall. Sam heard Daniel's surprised intake of breath, and she looked around to determine what had caught his attention. It didn't take her long to identify that the inside of this chamber looked far different from what she would have expected from a technologically inferior society.

The high vaulted ceiling was made up of what looked like opaque skylights. They were too foggy colored to see the sky beyond, but the Hall would have been illuminated by natural light if it had been sunny outside. For a day as dark as this one, two dozen lanterns had been set into the walls and burned furiously, their flickering flames casting dark and menacing shadows through the Hall.

Smooth marble columns of a light blue color lined the Hall, and the floor was almost entirely covered in silver stone tiles, except for a circular spot, maybe fifteen feet in diameter, in the very center of the room. This area was devoid of tiles, and all that was left was a smooth metal circle that was inscribed with what looked like the petals of a flower emanating from the center.

Daniel was still staring around, his mouth agape. His wide eyes caught her own and he whispered, "It's Ancient!"

That's when Sam realized why the room was so familiar. The grey walls overlaying cerulean stone and the sharp, clean-cut architecture looked a lot like the Ancient outpost in Antarctica and the pictures that Elizabeth Weir and the rest of the expedition had sent back from the Lost City of Atlantis. It had been an immense relief to finally know that their people were alright – though facing attack by a terrifying enemy called the Wraith – when they'd finally received the massive amount of compressed data only a few weeks before. Along with personal messages, the data had contained the first visuals of the Lost City of Atlantis. Daniel had drooled over the images when they'd first come in; now it seemed that there were major architectural similarities between the Ancient city and Mordred's castle.

However, the furnishings of the room brought her back to the present. Medieval tapestries, at one time colorful but now faded with time, hung on the stone walls and a bright red carpet led to a very large, ornate wooden throne at the back of the room.

Daniel was still taking in the features of the room, turning as far as his restraints would allow, when the slamming of a heavy door resounded through the Great Hall and brought him back to attention before the guards shoved them all to their knees.

Sam heard a pop as General O'Neill's knee impacted the ground. She met his eyes, and he held her gaze with a direct expression that said, "Be ready." She gave the smallest of nods before facing forward again.

A door to the right of the throne had been thrown open, and a single man entered slowly, deliberately, looking over them with a stony countenance and dark glaring eyes. His jet-black hair was littered with streaks of grey, and he wore a bright red tunic embroidered with what looked like Celtic designs along the hems. A long, black velvet cape fell down to the tops of his knee-high boots, and a golden, jewel encrusted circlet lay on his head.

Yorath stood in front of them and bowing low, he addressed the man.

"Your majesty, King Mordred."

* * *

Happy weekend, everyone!


	7. Chapter 7 - Mordred

Happy Friday, lovely followers! Continued thanks for all of the reviews! They mean the world! -Jess

* * *

 _A door to the right of the throne had been thrown open, and a single man entered slowly, deliberately, looking over them with a stony countenance and dark glaring eyes. His jet-black hair was littered with streaks of grey, and he wore a bright red tunic embroidered with what looked like Celtic designs along the hems. A long, black velvet cape fell down to the tops of his knee-high boots, and a golden, jewel encrusted circlet lay on his head._

 _Yorath stood in front of them and bowing low, he addressed the man._

" _Your majesty, King Mordred."_

Chapter Seven – Mordred

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this Mordred's appearance. He was wearing several gaudy necklaces and tacky rings on his fingers, making him look every bit as pompous as a Goa'uld. Which they weren't sure that wasn't. A Goa'uld, that is.

With his jaw set and hands clasped behind his back, Mordred stepped slowly, ponderously, around SG-1 and the two Ancelinians, studying his prisoners in silence. His hard, dark eyes ran over Jack, but his face was blank and revealed no emotion. When he finally spoke, the voice was deep, hard, and arrogant, but it didn't bear the resonant timbre of a symbiote.

"So it is true. The Gateway has been unburied."

Commander Yorath answered. "I believe it was the villagers that were hiding these heretics who excavated the Gateway. The village of Ancelin is in close proximity to the Mount Badon."

"The former village, Yorath," said Mordred.

"My lord?"

"The former village of Ancelin! It must be destroyed, Commander!" Jack leaned backward from the explosive force of Mordred's words as his screech echoed off the walls. "Every man and woman must be punished for their treachery!"

"Of course, my king," said Yorath in a dry, placating voice. "The … former village of Ancelin has been dealt with."

And as quickly as Mordred's rage appeared, it dissipated. Now, Mordred released a shaky breath as he took a step backward. He pressed one hand to his face while the other danced carelessly in front of him, like a conductor directing an orchestra. He laughed, a tiny breathless laugh, and murmured in a sing-song voice:

" _The future tells of traitors bound,  
 _Of traitors all burned to the ground._ "  
_

Jack studied Mordred with growing apprehension. The last thing they needed was a megalomaniac, age-defying tyrant who was bat-shit crazy on top of everything else.

"Which of you leads these heretics?" Mordred cast a pointed glance over SG-1.

"That would be me," Jack replied immediately so Carter wouldn't get it in her head to say she was in charge.

"Then you are Arthur." It was a statement, not a question. He studied Jack's features. "My would-be usurper. You do not look as I remember."

He raised his eyebrow and answered carefully, purposefully. "That's because I'm not who you think that I am. General Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force."

"It does not matter who you claim to be."

"Please, there's been a terrible mistake…" Daniel said.

"Silence!" Yorath commanded.

Mordred held up his hand to silence Yorath, though it was more out of a dark amusement than fairness in allowing Daniel to speak.

"He's telling the truth. We are not who you think we are. He's not Arthur, we aren't knights, and we aren't here to fulfill any prophecy. We're peaceful explorers who have come to meet you and your people." Daniel paused but when Mordred remained quiet, he continued. "My name is Doctor Daniel Jackson, and this is Teal'c and Colonel Samantha Carter." He gestured toward Lyall and Jaron. "These other men were gracious enough to welcome us to your great nation of Albion."

Mordred's eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider their story. "My informants tell me a different story, Doctor Daniel Jackson. I know that you are not of this world. I know that you came through the Gateway. If you did, then you have already fulfilled the first part of the Prophecy. There is nothing that you can say to convince me that I should not have you killed."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Daniel continued. "Have your men escort us back to the Gateway. We won't speak to anyone. We'll leave as quietly as we came. We are no threat to you."

Jack definitely had a problem with that. The screams of the villagers and their frightened faces echoed in his mind. There was a whole lot that he wanted to do to this tyrant, and leaving quietly was not on the list. But he appreciated Daniel for keeping him talking.

Mordred coolly clasped his hands behind his back. His stature seemed to indicate that this situation didn't worry him because he had nothing to lose. "And you say it would be in my best interest to release you?"

"We'll return to our world. We'll never bother you again. You have my word."

Mordred took a few heavy steps to the front of his throne. Jack suspected that he wasn't really considering anything that Daniel said, which meant that it was definitely time to figure out a way to disable the guards and escape. Jack turned his head slightly to count the number of soldiers surrounding them. There were only six including Commander Yorath, and Mordred appeared to be unarmed. They'd have to be quick.

"I am afraid that I cannot release you, Daniel Jackson." Mordred's black eyes glittered dangerously as his gaze slid over them. "The damage has already been done."

Mordred placed a hand on the arm of his golden throne, a hard-won prize.

"You." He glared at Jack. "You have no idea what I have endured to maintain my position. Under my reign, this kingdom has grown in size and power. Our army is large, unmatched by any other nation. I have brought stability and prosperity to this realm. And yet, my subjects do not appreciate what I have done for them."

Jack's jaw clenched as the screams of the homeless villagers echoed in his ears. Mordred obviously had his own interpretation of the status of his realm.

"You see," Mordred continued, his voice growing harsh. "I have ruled this nation for three hundred years, and still the people whisper of the Deliverer!"

He spat the word. His eyes came to rest on Jack, and his scowling face began turning an alarming shade of red. " _Rex quondam, rexque futurus_! The Once and Future King! Hundreds of people have already seen your face. Your name will spread like a cancer through this land, Jack O'Neill. Unless I stamp it out!"

Punctuating each word with a step, Mordred stalked forward until he stood right above Jack. Jack refused to say anything, but he steadfastly met Mordred's scowl with his own.

For a tense moment, everything was silent. When the king spoke again, his voice was hushed and dangerous. He cast a glance at Trevor Lyall and Jaron Kerr. "We have already leveled one village for their disobedience. I am willing to do so to many more if this foolishness continues to spread."

A vicious smile spread across his bearded face. "But perhaps I can achieve more by cutting off the legend at its source. Killing all of those who embody this Prophecy will go a long way to solidifying my rule once and for all."

Turning to Yorath, he commanded, "Lock them in the dungeon! Prepare for their executions at first light tomorrow."

Now or never. Summoning all of his energy, Jack reached behind him and knocked the soldier off balance. He tripped and fell forward, and Jack wound the rope between him and Trevor Lyall around the man's throat in a makeshift garrote.

In a flash, he saw the rest of SG-1 spring into action. Teal'c and Daniel jumped up and bowled themselves into one of the guards. Carter stood and elbowed one soldier in the face, effectively breaking his nose, but with her hands tethered in front of her, another guard grabbed her from behind and lifted her into the air. This seemed to be what Carter thought he'd do, and she began driving her elbow into his chest with all her might. The guard grunted in pain but refused to let go. He swung her around, trying to disorient her. The motion caused her cap to fall from her head, her blonde locks whipping around her angry face.

The metallic sound of a sword being drawn sliced through the room.

"Stop!"

Mordred's voice halted the scene. The gasping soldier wrenched free from Jack's hands, and he looked over at his team. The beefy soldier still held Carter aloft, and Daniel and Teal'c were sprawled on the floor. The soldier who had drawn the sword stood over Daniel, ready to bring the weapon down.

But Mordred's attention was on Carter. His eyes slid over her, and he examined her with a renewed and disturbing interest.

"Bring her." At his command, the soldier still wielding the sword walked between Jack and Sam and sliced the rope binding them together.

The other soldier put Carter back on the ground, and when she struggled, the two of them grabbed her arms and manhandled her toward the throne. They held her at the bottom of the steps, and Mordred sauntered down, still staring at her with an intensity that sickened Jack.

"Guinevere." His quiet voice sounded surprised, disoriented. "I see it now."

The soldiers held Carter fast; the rigid tension in her body betrayed how scared she was, but her voice was strong. "My name is Colonel Samantha Carter-"

"You look just like her." Reaching out, Mordred gently ran his hand through her blonde hair. Carter shuddered.

"All right, that's enough!" Jack tried to stand but was forced back to his knees.

Mordred moved both of his hands to cup Carter's cheeks, and then the smarmy tyrant bent over her and pressed his lips to her forehead. "My queen."

Jack's stomach clenched with revulsion.

"Commander Yorath!" The king's voice snapped Yorath to attention. Mordred addressed him, but he never looked away from Sam. "Bring the others to the dungeon. Have her taken to the guest chambers in the North Tower. See to it that my servants have her properly attired. I'll be along later."

The implication fell heavy on the room. Not a chance in hell.

Carter was yelling at the two soldiers to take their hands off of her, but she was already being jostled out of the Great Hall and into a corridor. The rest of SG-1 struggled in their restraints but now that the soldiers were exercising extra precautions, it was a hopeless gesture. It just about killed Jack to relax and allow himself to be led away from Carter, but they were not going to do her much good in their current situation. He looked at Daniel and Teal'c and saw fire and anger alight in their eyes.

They would have to find a way to escape from the dungeon, get Carter, and find a way to escape the castle before their executions in the morning. No, before that … before Mordred went for Carter.

At least it was part of a plan.

* * *

For the record, I considered make Ba'al the baddie of this story, since Merlin identifies him as Mordred in "The Quest" (and he's my favorite villain ever!), but I figured he wouldn't have cared about ruling a backwater planet for five hundred years. Instead, I'm having fun with my own crazy baddie!


	8. Chapter 8 - One of Those Days

Thank God it's Friday! It's been a long, hard week, and it's time for a break … and another chapter of RoKA!

I received several incredibly lovely and thoughtful reviews for the last chapter (I'm so glad that you like Mordred!), and feel the need to say again how encouraging those reviews are to me! Enjoy the next installment and blessings on your week! –Jess

* * *

 _Carter was yelling at the two soldiers to take their hands off of her, but she was already being jostled out of the Great Hall and into a corridor. The rest of SG-1 struggled in their restraints but now that the soldiers were exercising extra precautions, it was a hopeless gesture. It just about killed Jack to relax and allow himself to be led away from Carter, but they were not going to do her much good in their current situation. He looked at Daniel and Teal'c and saw fire and anger alight in their eyes._

 _They would have to find a way to escape from the dungeon, get Carter, and find a way to escape the castle before their executions in the morning. No, before that … before Mordred went for Carter._

 _At least it was part of a plan._

Chapter Eight – One of Those Days

"You know, you've been trapped in one alien dungeon… well, you've seen them all." Jack leaned up against metal bars of their cell.

"Good one, Jack," Daniel's sardonicism carried from where he sat in the corner of the cell. He was about to change the dressing on Teal'c's leg with a black strip of material that he'd ripped off the bottom of his own shirt. Now it looked like the crop top Sam had told Cassie she wasn't allowed to wear. He put the ripped shirt back on and zipped up his BDU jacket over it.

He sighed heavily as he considered Teal'c's swollen leg. It was warm to the touch. The wound was clearly infected, and without proper treatment, it would likely get worse. "There are times I wish you still had your symbiote, Teal'c."

But the Jaffa's answer was steadfast. "I would never wish that, Daniel Jackson."

"I know you wouldn't," he replied before wrapping the wound. It wasn't going to stay clean, but at least it was dry for now.

Jack restlessly kicked at the dirt floor with his boot. He looked anxious enough to consider trying to dig underneath the bars, but the floor was too hard and the dirt too compacted. Plus after getting out of the cell, they'd have to get past the heavily bolted wooden door in the room outside of the cell. Through the small glass window, Daniel could see that there was at least one soldier guarding the door. This was apparently the highest security cell in the dungeon. They should be honored.

For all the security, the cell itself was small, maybe a dozen feet in width and length, and the dirt floor was covered with a layer of musty straw. A single wooden bucket sat in the corner. Eww.

Trevor Lyall and Jaron Kerr had been taken soon after they had been placed in the chamber. Daniel was worried about them, but he hoped that Mordred was simply considering that he didn't need to execute the men who had welcomed the Prophecy-fulfillers to their village.

The Prophecy. This was all sounding so familiar. It had only been a couple of months since SG-1, accompanied by Jack, had fulfilled an Ancient prophecy on the planet where Harry Maybourne now ruled as King Archon. A time traveling Ancient had seen everything that had taken place, traveled back in time, and recorded the events on pillars on the planet. Daniel wouldn't have even assumed that there might be a connection between that planet and this one before they had been led into the Great Hall.

The Ancient design of the room had been obvious, but the castle itself certainly wasn't Ancient. It was more likely that the Great Hall had been built as part of an Ancient research outpost, and then the room was incorporated into the design of the castle many thousands of years later. It was fascinating to think that they could still stumble onto Ancient relics on this backwater planet.

"So who's got a great idea for getting out of this mess?"

"It will be near impossible to break out of this fortress on our own," Teal'c noted. We have no idea where Colonel Carter is being held and no known means of exit. I also fear that I will be of little use to you, O'Neill."

"Plus, we'd have to make it back to the 'gate evading constant patrols and search parties, which didn't exactly work out the last time, dig out the naquadah reactor and Sam's laptop from under Ancelin, and then hook them up to the 'gate before we can dial out. We won't make it."

In the dull light from the torch on the wall, Jack crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "My, the glass certainly is half empty, isn't it!"

"So," Daniel continued, "what I'm thinking is that we might want to consider fulfilling the Prophecy."

Daniel hoped their dire situation made his suggestion more appealing.

Two incredulous pairs of eyes swung to his. "You're joking, right?" Jack scoffed. "Because we are not Knights of the Round Table, and we did not come here to topple a tyrant or claim a throne."

Daniel held up his hand. "Jack, Jack! Just listen to me. I think Teal'c and I did a pretty good job of showing how impossible it's going to be to get out of here on our own. But, we have the advantage of many people who think that we are here to fulfill this prophecy. Now if we can make contact with some of them, they may be willing to help us escape if we can find a way to help them."

"Do what? Overthrow Mordred?"

"How about reinstate peace to this land?"

"Tomato, to-mah-to." Jack waved his hand noncommittally. "Daniel, you are talking about devoting resources for a full scale attack on a fortress guarded by an army!"

"Perhaps not. We don't know how deep this underground rebellion goes, but after talking to Lyall and Jaron, it seems like this is a pretty big movement. I mean, the entire village of Ancelin ascribed to the Prophecy! Now, if they have troops in position, ready to fight against Mordred, it could just be a matter of convincing them that now is the right time to act."

"That is a pretty big 'if'."

"Jack, you know that I would never advocate violence unless I thought that there was no other way. But Mordred is not going to listen to us. We will be executed, and he will continue to rule, unopposed, as he has for hundreds of years."

Jack looked perplexed. "Do we know yet if this character's a Goa'uld or not?" He turned toward Teal'c.

"Without a symbiote, I can no longer sense the presence of a Goa'uld. But Colonel Carter should know that answer if we can get to her." Daniel shuddered at the thought of Mordred's hands on Sam's face.

Teal'c continued. "However, these soldiers are not Jaffa, and by Trevor Lyall's admission, Mordred took measures to bury the Stargate, which would have stranded him on this world indefinitely. His actions are not those of a Goa'uld. Indeed, other than Mordred's expressed longevity, I have seen no design or technology that would indicate the presence of a Goa'uld on this planet."

"No presence of the Goa'uld," Daniel repeated, "but we've already seen indications that the Ancients were here. The architecture of the Great Hall is clearly Ancient design, even though the rest of the castle isn't. Jack, I think it's logical to assume that the Ancients had a research outpost on this planet."

Jack rubbed his hands together in what Daniel could only term an impish manner. "And might the remains of this outpost be chocked full of little Ancient doodads and whosiwhatsies?"

Daniel returned his look and dangled the metaphorical carrot in front of his face. "Maybe even a space gun if we're lucky! That's just one more reason why we can't just hightail it back to the 'gate and leave. We're going to have to deal with Mordred if we want to examine what's here."

Jack looked thoughtfully amused as he considered. Daniel knew that Jack wasn't deaf to his other arguments, but his interest in this planet was considerably piqued with that last point. Since the Anubis and Replicators had been destroyed and the Goa'uld Empire dealt a considerable blow, the President and the Joint Chiefs, not to mention the reputable half of the N.I.D., had been breathing down the General's neck to produce some new technological advances. Jack had already devoted a lot of the SGC's resources to exploration, but nothing of note had been recovered yet. Uncovering some valuable Ancient technology would keep the bureaucratic bloodhounds at bay at least for a little while.

Jack gave a sigh. His quiet voice barely reached Daniel's ears. "Well, you wanted one last adventure, Jack."

Daniel's head jerked around. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Teal'c, who raised a confused eyebrow at him. Daniel made a note to ask Jack what he meant later. Right now, they had to get out of here.

Sam picked herself up from the wooden floor with a groan. She arched her back to get some feeling back into her shoulders.

She'd found a flimsy hairpin in one of the wardrobes and was trying to pick the lock of the heavy wooden door of the guest quarters she'd been thrown into, but so far she'd only gotten a splinter in her thumb. The room only locked from the outside – some guest room! – so her efforts were concentrated on trying to lift the heavy bolt through the crack in the door, and the hairpin just wasn't strong enough to do that.

Sam sighed in frustration. Mordred had something else coming to him if he thought she was going to wait patiently until he came for her.

She swept the room once more, trying to avoid looking at the mahogany four-poster bed, trying to find something that could help her escape. However, all of the drawers and shelves were empty and the floor looked like it had recently been swept. She considered tying the bed sheets and covers together and climbing out of the small window, but it wouldn't even get her a fourth of the way down the high round tower in which she was imprisoned.

Picking the lock was still her best option, but she needed something stronger than the bent hairpin. She was just considering ripping the underwire out of her bra when the lock clicked, and a guard ushered two women into the room.

One of them was older, maybe early sixties, plump with a hard expression that showed she'd never led an easy life. The other was young, probably in her late teens, with wavy brown hair secured at her neck. Her light eyes were wide as she looked at Sam. Both of the women bowed low when she saw her.

"My lady," the older one addressed her, though her voice didn't hold any respect.

"Please," Sam waved a hand at them, "don't do that."

"The king has sent us to clothe you in something more suitable to him," the younger stated.

Sam eyed the swath of material the younger woman carried in her arms, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. It was suspiciously the same color as the Shavadi dress. And that was not happening again.

She crossed her arms in front of her. "I'd rather just wear what I have," Sam answered. Her firm reply brooked no argument, but the girl could hold her own.

"We have only been instructed to bring it to you," she stated calmly. "However, if you do not comply, the king will punish us for your disobedience."

Sam held her gaze before giving a sigh. She'd been down this road before, too. She wouldn't let someone else take the punishment for her actions. "I guess it's just been one of those days," she muttered.

"One of what days, my lady?" The girl must have taken Sam's response as acquiescence, because she began laying the dress out on the brocade bedspread.

"Never mind," Sam replied. She focused on the young woman. "What's your name?"

"I am called Eliana, my lady. And this is Rhoda." She motioned toward the plump, hard-faced woman who stood silently, studying Sam with lidded eyes. "We serve the king and his court."

"Enough talking," Rhoda snapped. "You must undress."

Sam stared back with a hard expression for a long moment. "Would you mind giving me a little privacy?" She mustered up an air of command in her voice. There was an advantage to being thought of as the reincarnation of a queen.

Rhoda's expression did not change, but Sam could tell that she didn't like being challenged. Or maybe it was just that Rhoda perceived that that they were essentially equals to Mordred. Queen or servant, they were all lower than dust, playthings for the king to use and discard as he pleased.

Eliana placed a hand on the older woman's arm and said in a soothing voice, "I will assist her, Rhoda. You do not need to stay."

Rhoda addressed Eliana, but her hard eyes never left Sam. Sam glared back. "I will be in the laundry. See that she is properly dressed, and then bring her old clothes to me."

Eliana gave a small curtsey and stared at the floor as Rhoda left the room. The instant the bolt clicked, she raised her face to Sam again, her grey eyes sparkling and a smirk tugging at her lips. "Is it true what they say?" she asked. "Are you the queen, Guinevere?"

Sam held out a hand. "Eliana, I'm sure that you've heard a great deal about this prophecy and how my friends and I are here to fulfill it. But I have to tell you that I'm not Guinevere, and my friends aren't Arthur and his knights. My name is Samantha Carter. I'm from another world very far away. My friends and I are warriors who explore strange lands and meet new people. We didn't come here to free your people from Mordred."

"But you came through the Gateway?"

"Yes, we did."

"Then you have already fulfilled the first part of the Prophecy."

Sam sighed with mild frustration and, seeing no way around it, began stripping off her BDUs. It definitely seemed like there wasn't anything that she'd be able to say to convince this girl or any other person that they weren't there to topple a king. But since that was the case, she figured she could use it to her advantage and at least get her friends out of the dungeon.

Sam figured the first step was just getting this girl talking.

"Eliana, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my lady."

"Please," Sam said, "don't call me that."

"What shall I call you?" Sam could tell that it took all her effort not to tack on "my lady" to that question.

"Just Sam is fine," she said. "That's what my friends call me."

Eliana looked starstruck, but she complied. "Alright, Sam."

"How many people on your world believe that Arthur will return, Eliana?"

"A great many. My village holds a secret celebration every year to affirm our faith in the return of the Deliverer. It is something that many villages do."

Sam nodded at the door. "But I take it Rhoda does not believe."

"Rhoda calls it a foolish fairy tale. She gave up on believing the truth of the Prophecy long ago."

"All right, Eliana. I have something very important that I need to ask you." Sam held the woman's gaze and spoke firmly. "Within a few hours, Mordred is going to come looking for me. I would rather not be here when that happens."

The girl nodded her understanding.

"My friends and I are warriors. We have fought tyrants before and won. Now I can't promise anything, but if I said that we would do our best to deal with Mordred, would you be able to help my friends and me escape?"

Sam watched as the shock of what she asking play over the young woman's features. "I would be a traitor," she whispered. "I would have to leave the city."

Sam placed a steady hand on her arm. "You can come with us. We can protect you," she said firmly.

Eliana bit her lower lip in thought. "I cannot free you from this room. There are two guards stationed outside the door and two more down the hall. One of them has the key."

"What about getting my friends out of the dungeon?" Sam asked. "Do you think that you'd be able to do that?"

Eliana's thoughtful eyes became clear, and she smiled up at Sam. "I think I know what to do."


	9. Chapter 9 - Inside Help

Happy Friday, everyone! Hope you enjoy! Also, your reviews, thoughts, comments, and criticisms are still exceptionally desired! *wink wink* *nudge nudge*

* * *

" _My friends and I are warriors. We have fought tyrants before and won. Now I can't promise anything, but if I said that we would do our best to deal with Mordred, would you be able to help my friends and me escape?"_

 _Eliana bit her lower lip in thought. "I cannot free you from this room. There are two guards stationed outside the door and two more down the hall. One of them has the key."_

" _What about getting my friends out of the dungeon?" Sam asked. "Do you think that you'd be able to do that?"_

 _Eliana's thoughtful eyes became clear, and she smiled up at Sam. "I think I know what to do."_

Chapter Nine – Inside Help

Eliana picked up her skirts and darted down the tower's circular staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Rhoda would glare at her and say that it was unladylike, but Eliana never listened to her once she was out of sight anyway.

She made her way to the servants' wing, found Rhoda in the washing room, and gave her the Lady – Sam's – rough and muddy clothes. Rhoda instructed Eliana to head to the kitchens to see if she could be of any use there. Eliana listened, nodded and curtsied, and then promptly raced passed the kitchens on her way to the dungeon.

She had to find Kiernan. Mordred would be returning soon, and she shuddered to think what would happen to Sam if she were too late.

The dim light of the cloudy day had already begun to fade as she ran down three more flights of stairs. Torches burned on the stone walls of the dungeon, illuminating narrow hallways and casting crisscrossed shadows on the ground when the light touched the bars of the cells. The stagnant air in the large room was pungent – a mixture of fire, feces, and unwashed bodies.

The importance of Sam's people meant that they'd be kept in the high security hold at the back of the dungeon. Several soldiers walked past her with only a passing glance, but she didn't recognize any of them. Now that he was back from Commander Yorath's march, Kiernan should be on guard duty down here. She prayed that he was; her entire plan hinged on it.

Eliana moved to the wall and grabbed a bucket of drinking water hanging there. It wasn't uncommon for women to move around the dungeons, but she'd be less conspicuous if it seemed she had a purpose for being there.

She made her way to the back of the dungeon and – God be praised! – found her Kiernan standing wearily outside of a heavy wooden door.

"Kiernan!"

"Eliana," a smile tugged at his tired face. He glanced around to make sure the Superior wasn't in sight before reaching over and pulling her into his arms. She hadn't seen her intended in nearly three weeks. She pressed a kiss to his lips, enjoying the moment, before she pulled away.

"Kiernan, we have to speak," Eliana spoke in an insistent whisper. "You are guarding the rest of the strangers who came through the Gateway, are you not?"

She caught a thread of unease that ran through Kiernan's expression. "I am," he said. "They are to be executed in the morning."

"Do you have the key to unlock the door?"

Kiernan's brow furrowed. "Of course I do."

"We must release them and help them escape."

Kiernan pulled back. "Are you out of your mind?"

Eliana pulled him closer to the wall and lowered her voice further, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "You believe in the Prophecy as I do! You must see that part of it has already been fulfilled."

"Yes, I do believe, but …"

"I have spoken to the woman. She claims that she is not Guinevere but that she and her people are warriors from another world who have defeated tyrants before. She says that they can free us from Mordred."

Kiernan shook his head. "Eliana, you're far too impulsive! Have you even considered what this would mean?"

"It would mean that we would preserve the still best chance to free our people."

"Our lives would be forfeit!"

"We cannot allow Mordred to kill them, Kiernan," she said resolutely.

Her intended turned and ran a hand through his dusty curls. She could see his inner turmoil as he considered what he would lose. What they would lose. He was a young officer in Mordred's army. He didn't like supporting the tyrant, but Kiernan was a good soldier with a promising career ahead of him. In a couple of years, he'd be making enough that she could leave her job as a servant in Mordred's castle. They could have a family and a comfortable life.

But they'd both been brought up to believe in Arthur's Return. The Prophecy was being fulfilled right before their eyes, but it wouldn't be if these newcomers were all executed.

Eliana placed her hand on Kiernan's chest and met his dark eyes. "This is bigger than you and me, bigger than us. We have a part to play in this story."

Kiernan's eyes closed once, and Eliana wondered if he was mourning their own plans for their lives. But when he opened them, he looked at her with conviction.

"What shall I do?"

* * *

Jack leaned his head against the cool metal of the bars. He glanced anxiously at his watch for the third time in as many minutes. Two hours and forty-eight minutes. That's how long they'd been stuck in this cell. Carter would have figured out a way to get them out by now.

Carter. They weren't doing her any good sitting here doing nothing.

"Hey!" He rattled the bars as loud as he could, hoping that a guard outside the heavy wooden door would hear. "Room service! You forgot to empty our bucket! It's starting to smell in here!"

"Anyone ever tell you that patience is a virtue?" Daniel said, but Jack could hear the worry in his voice.

"You're the one who wanted to make contact with the Resistance," Jack fired back. "We can't wait any longer. We need to get out of here and find Carter now!"

Jack spun around as the door swung open, and Teal'c struggled to his feet. Two figures entered, and the inky red light from the torches revealed a young, dark-haired woman and a sandy haired man. Jack furrowed his eyebrows. The man looked vaguely familiar.

"Hello?" Jack inquired.

The man stepped up to the cell. "You are Arthur."

"No," Jack replied firmly. "I'm not."

Daniel stepped up beside him. "But we know that you think we're here to fulfill a prophecy. If you help us escape, we'll do our best to defeat Mordred and free your people."

The young couple glanced at each other and then back at Daniel.

"Alright," the man said.

Jack's mouth opened in surprise.

"Wh-what…" Daniel stuttered. "Really?"

"Good going, Daniel!" Jack over-enthusiastically clapped the archaeologist on the shoulder, knowing that he wasn't really the one who had convinced the pair to help them.

The woman also stepped forward. "I have spoken to Samantha Carter. She has convinced me to help you escape."

Daniel glanced at Teal'c and then at Jack. "Way to go, Sam!"

Jack felt a grin tugging at his own lips. And they had thought that she was the one who needed rescuing.

"You are the best chance to save the kingdom of Camelot," the woman stated. Her voice was firm, but Jack detected an underlying tone of sorrow. He wondered what these people were giving up to help them escape.

"All good," Jack said, keeping his thoughts on the task at hand. "So how about getting us out of here?"

"We cannot do that yet," said the man.

"What?" Daniel asked. "Why not?"

"Mordred is taking his evening meal in the Great Hall. A great many men are stationed in the dungeon at this time. After the king has finished feasting, most of the guards will take their own supper in the barracks. We must wait until that transition happens to have the best chance of escape."

"How long?" Jack asked, trying to keep the anxious impatience out of his voice.

"An hour, perhaps. We will return for you then."

With that, the two were gone. The room was plunged back into a silent stillness. Teal'c hobbled back over to the wall and slid to the ground.

Jack looked at his watch again and continued counting. Two hours and fifty-five minutes.

It was going to be a very long hour.

* * *

"Three hours, forty-five minutes."

If O'Neill didn't stop looking at his watch, Teal'c was going to walk over and take it off his wrist. He was just as worried about Samantha Carter as O'Neill was; he didn't need to be reminded how long it had been since she was taken.

Two minutes past O'Neill's announcement that it had been one hour and ten minutes since the couple left, the door finally reopened. Teal'c instinctually rose to his feet, readying himself for a fight and trying to quell the throb in his leg.

However, he saw O'Neill and Daniel Jackson deflate with disappointment as they realized that it wasn't the young couple but half a dozen soldiers returning Trevor Lyall to the cell. Teal'c was pleased to see that the mayor appeared mostly unharmed, but he shared in his teammates' disappointment. In spite of his injury, he was anxious to rescue Colonel Carter, who had already succeeded in procuring their own escape.

The soldiers unlocked the cell door, and Teal'c could see O'Neill's clenched fists. He wanted a fight. Teal'c knew that he was considering whether it was possible for them to break past these soldiers and escape without help. At any other time, O'Neill may have taken the 2-to-1 odds if it weren't that he was injured. Teal'c felt a stab of frustrated disappointment in himself.

They would just have to wait.

Lyall had a swollen lip and cheek, but no other apparent injuries. He had, however, lost the despondency that had covered him in the shock of the loss of his village. There was now a fire in his eyes, a righteous anger that spurred a person to action.

"Jaron and I were separated immediately. They interrogated me," he explained, scratching the crusted blood from his split lip. "Questions about where you came from and what you were here to do. I think they wanted to know if I was involved in your arrival – if I had summoned you somehow."

"What did they conclude?" Daniel asked.

"I do not know," Trevor said. "But I suppose that it is not a good sign that they have placed me back here. I can only hope that they conclude that Jaron is not also guilty."

"Well, don't worry about it," Daniel said. "We made contact with people who are going to help us. They'll be back soon."

"They'd better," O'Neill muttered, staring at the watch.

"We must rescue Jaron," Lyall said, insistently. "He was not involved in this; we cannot leave him here."

"Do you know where Jaron Kerr was taken?" Teal'c asked.

"I do not. But I was taken to see Commander Yorath. It is likely that he will be interrogating Jaron now."

Lyall looked at O'Neill hopefully, but the General shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't promise anything. If we come across him, we'll try to get him, but we're waiting on the people who are helping us. Hopefully, they'll have more of a plan than we do."

The door swung open once more, finally revealing the people they were waiting for. The man quickly produced a key to unlock the door.

"I am sorry for the delay. I knew that the soldiers would be returning with this man." He nodded at Lyall. "But they are gone now, and there are only a few guards left in the dungeon."

He swung the cell door open, and Daniel Jackson extended his arm in greeting. "What's your name?"

"I am Captain Kiernan Markell. This is my intended, Eliana."

Kiernan Markell's familiarity suddenly registered in Teal'c's mind. He stepped forward and leveled the man with a heavy gaze. "You are the officer who was sent to hunt down Daniel Jackson and myself."

Daniel Jackson's eyes flew to Teal'c's in surprise before he studied Kiernan's face.

A guilty look passed over the young captain's features. "I am afraid so," he said grimly. "Please forgive me. I did not want to harm either of you."

"Tell you what." O'Neill slipped past both Kiernan and Daniel Jackson to get out of the cell. "You can make it up to us by getting us out of here. Do you have anything that will take out the other guards?"

Trevor Lyall walked to O'Neill and pulled something from the waistband of his trousers. "Will this do? All of your weapons where brought to Commander Yorath. I was able to sneak it out after my interrogation."

The man produced a zat'nik'tel and handed it to O'Neill, who looked up at the mayor with surprise and newfound respect. He had obviously underestimated Lyall's usefulness.

"I'm going to use this on the guards to get past them. It will disable them but not kill them," O'Neill turned to Kiernan and Eliana who nodded their agreement.

"Do you have a plan for our escape?" Teal'c asked.

"It would be next to impossible to break out of the castle on the main level," said Kiernan. "However, a fellow officer once informed me that there are tunnels that run under the castle. They were built to ensure that the king could escape a siege of the castle, but they have not been used in many years. If we can use them, we could escape into the forest and make our way to the outskirts of the city."

"Do you know where they took the other man who was with us?" asked Daniel Jackson.

"He is with Commander Yorath. We cannot attempt his rescue right now," Kiernan replied ruefully. "I am sorry, but he is too heavily guarded right now, and as long as Yorath is occupied, we stand a much better chance of escape."

Lyall looked crestfallen, but there was nothing to say.

"What about Carter?" O'Neill asked.

"She at the top of the Round Tower," Eliana said. "I am prepared to lead you back to retrieve her."

"Alright, Daniel, that'll be you and me."

"You must be extremely careful. More guards patrol the castle, and Mordred may be in that area now that he's finished dinner."

O'Neill fingers tightened around the zat. "Let's do this."

* * *

Have a good weekend, all! -Jess


	10. Chapter 10 - Rescue

I apologize for my lateness in posting. The mother of a close friend (and second mother to me) received an unexpected diagnosis of late stage colon cancer today. I have been reminded of how fragile and short life can be and the need to value all that we have. I love this strange and wonderful community of fandom/fanfiction, and ask for your thoughts and prayers. Hug your family, love relentlessly, and many blessings on your coming week.

Now let's get Sam out of the tower! -Jess

* * *

" _What about Carter?" O'Neill asked._

" _She at the top of the Round Tower," Eliana said. "I am prepared to lead you back to retrieve her."_

" _Alright, Daniel, that'll be you and me."_

" _You must be extremely careful. More guards patrol the castle, and Mordred may be in that area now that he's finished dinner."_

 _O'Neill fingers tightened around the zat. "Let's do this."_

Chapter Ten – Rescue

Jack readied the zat and peaked out from behind the wooden door of their cell. It was brighter out here in the dungeon, the orange light reflecting off the red stone walls. He glanced around, taking in the layout of the room. He could see the bars of other cells lining the walls. He hoped that there weren't other prisoners who would raise the alarm when they escaped. But the zat would come in handy if they did.

There seemed to be only one exit that led back up into the castle's main level, but Jack spotted several narrow hallways branching off from the dungeon. He assumed that one of them led to the tunnels that they'd use to escape.

Just as Kiernan had said, the guards had cleared the room save for a skeleton crew of four soldiers, who were stationed next to different cells. They were all in Jack's line of fire, and the zat provided an advantage that they wouldn't expect. He'd just have to take them all out before one could raise the alarm.

Without another thought, Jack stepped into the room and methodically fired at each guard. They went down one by one. The last man had time enough to draw his sword, but there was nothing that he could do to stop the blue energy from hitting him. He too went down and all was quiet for a second.

The rest of their growing party stepped into the dungeon as well. Jack walked over to the guards and grabbed three of the swords for himself, Daniel, and Teal'c. The new weapons would be awkward, but at least they wouldn't be unarmed.

A single prisoner, a burly, bearded man, stepped up to the bars as his disarmed a guard. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"Magic," Jack replied mysteriously.

"Take me with you!" The man reached out to grab his arm, but Jack pulled back and aimed the zat at him. The other prisoners began stirring, and even though he didn't want to have to shoot an innocent – relatively speaking – bystander, he was going to have to make a statement.

He pulled the trigger on the zat, and the man crumpled to the ground. Jack raised his voice just enough for it to carry to the other prisoners. "Don't alert the guards, or you'll get the same treatment."

Mayor Lyall stepped forward and grabbed the last sword. He swung it through the air in a manner that said that he remembered what it was like to wield one, even if he hadn't done so in many years. Jack was surprised to find that he felt confident in the man's abilities. The previously nervous mayor had taken some hits during his interrogation and had still managed to smuggle out a zat to give them a major advantage.

Kiernan pointed toward one of the narrow hallways that jutted off from the main room. "It is said that the tunnels are down this hall. I have never seen them, but I have no doubt that they do exist."

"All right," Jack handed Teal'c a sword. The Jaffa's initial confusion gave way as he tested the heavy weapon in his hands. "Teal'c, you and Kiernan and Lyall lock these guards up in our empty cell, and then go find the tunnels that'll get us out of here. Wait for us there.

"Daniel, let's go get Carter." Jack nodded to Eliana. "Lead the way."

The young woman took off at a no nonsense pace, gathering her skirts in her hands and leading them up the flight of stairs that led back into the castle. She cautiously checked the hallways every time they turned a corner. Several times they came across servants mulling about, but Eliana knew when they should wait for them to pass and continue on or double back and find another way.

Jack's innate sense of direction told him that they were getting closer to the heart of the castle, the Great Hall. He could hear laughter coming from that direction and fervently hoped that Mordred was still partying it up in there.

"Jack!" Daniel's eyes were wide, and he was pointing inside a room nearby. Jack put a finger to his lips – they really didn't need to draw attention to themselves in this part of the castle – but he signaled to Eliana that he needed to check it out. Coming up next to Daniel, he peered in to a long, narrow room.

"Well, it looks like now we have an indication that the Goa'uld have been here," Daniel whispered.

A sarcophagus sat in the middle of the floor.

"Damn it," Jack muttered. The room was open and nearly empty, but lit torches on the walls indicated that the room was still used. It didn't bode well.

Eliana whispered insistently. "Someone is coming!"

They sped off again at a quick but cautious pace. They finally came to a narrow spiral staircase where Carter had been taken. Eliana told them that the stairs went on for quite some time. By looking out one of the narrow windows, Jack could just see the top of the tower; they were already several stories up and the tower looked to be at least five stories high.

The tower itself was actually very wide and included several rooms besides the one where Carter was, but there was only one way up or down. They would have to zat anyone that came down the stairway as they were going up. There were four guards stationed at the top of the tower that they'd have to incapacitate before finding the key to the door.

Plan A: ascend the stairs, knock out the guards, get Carter, descend again before anyone noticed they were gone.

Jack sucked in a breath, calming himself.

Plan A better work, because in a round tower with only one staircase, there wasn't really a Plan B, and it was a very long way to the ground.

* * *

"Come on, guys…" Sam muttered, trying not to notice how low the sun was in the sky. She took a few deep breaths and willed the knot in her stomach to unravel.

She had every confidence in SG-1's abilities, and Eliana had assured her that she would convince her fiancé to free them from the dungeon. But the castle was a fortress, inside and out, and Sam couldn't help but worry that they wouldn't be able to get her out before Mordred's return.

In spite of her fear and revulsion of the smarmy king – she shuddered at the thought of his lips on her forehead – she was still intrigued by him. She knew that he wasn't a Goa'uld, or at least, her body hadn't sensed the presence of naquadah when he had gotten close to her, but curiosity still clamored to know the secret of his longevity.

They already knew that the Ancients had once inhabited this planet. It was entirely possible that Mordred had discovered some kind of Ancient technology that was the secret to his five hundred year reign, but she didn't know specifically what that technology could be. The closest thing that she could think of was Telchak's healing device that Daniel and Bill Lee had discovered in South America, and Sam hoped beyond hope they weren't dealing with anything like that.

Taking a step toward the window, Sam tripped on the hem of the elaborately embroidered blue gown that she now wore. The plunging neckline revealed far more than she was comfortable with and the pleated skirt and flowing sleeves made her movements slow and difficult. For now, Sam settled on ripping off the excess material on the sleeves so that they now cinched just below her elbows. If she'd had a knife, she'd have done a bit of tailoring on the heavy skirt as well.

Outside the door, commotion signaled a new arrival. Sam could hear footsteps, too heavy to be Eliana or one of the female servants. A rush of anxious adrenaline flooded Sam's system and she examined the room for something to use as a weapon. Perched on a shelf was an empty ceramic vessel, a vase or jug or something. Sam pulled it off the shelf and tested its weight. It was just light enough that she could wield it with little difficulty, but it was heavy and bulky enough to do some serious damage if it was brought down hard.

Sam stood behind the door, ready to bring down the vase as soon as it was opened. The lock turned in the door. She inhaled and lifted the vessel over her head, ready to strike.

The knob turned, the door opened, and Sam brought the weapon down.

Jack's wide eyes flashed before her.

"Carter!" He shouted as he jumped back. At the last second, Sam forced the jar to the right, diverting its trajectory away from the man whose skull she was about to crush. The crash of ceramic on the wooden floor echoed through out the tower.

"Sir!" She gasped, her face flushed with shock. She barely noticed her hands shaking and her heart pounding in her chest.

Jack stood in front of her, his mouth agape. He stared at the pot on the floor and then at Sam, before letting out a choked chuckle.

"General?" Sam asked more quietly, but she loved hearing him laugh.

Daniel's head peaked through the door. Behind him, Sam could see the prone bodies of the guards and Eliana watching down the stairwell.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked.

"Carter just about bashed me through the floor," Jack had finally gotten his voice back.

Daniel observed the broken pottery and then noticed Sam's new outfit. "I thought you decided you weren't going to play anthropologist again."

The shock finally dissipated, and Sam fisted one hand on her hip and pointed the other one at Daniel. "You don't talk," she said with enough venom to make the archaeologist wipe the smirk off his face.

The General looked her up and down exactly once before he handed her the zat in his hand. "Right, we gotta go. Someone somewhere must have heard that crash."

Sam found her legs and walked to the door.

"You going to be able to move in that?" Jack teased with smirk.

Sam hiked up her skirt with one hand in response. He was enjoying this too much. She hoped her expression said shut the hell up … sir.

Heavy footsteps echoed up the tower. "They are coming," Eliana said.

Sam noticed that both Jack and Daniel were wielding heavy metal swords. They'd come in handy, but they wouldn't incapacitate the guards as quickly as she could. She brandished the zat and took point.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

More to come! Thank you all for your continued support and reviews!


	11. Chapter 11 - The Round Table

Happy Friday! Thanks for sticking with this story! Your support is the greatest encouragement for each new chapter that I write! -Jess

* * *

" _You going to be able to move in that?" Jack teased with smirk._

 _Sam hiked up her skirt with one hand in response. He was enjoying this too much. She hoped her expression said shut the hell up … sir._

 _Heavy footsteps echoed up the tower. "They are coming," Eliana said._

 _Sam noticed that both Jack and Daniel were wielding heavy metal swords. They'd come in handy, but they wouldn't incapacitate the guards as quickly as she could. She brandished the zat and took point._

" _Let's get out of here."_

Chapter Eleven – The Round Table

Teal'c breathed heavily as he hefted the last of the unconscious guards into the cell that SG-1 had vacated. His calf was now throbbing, and each step left him wondering if his leg would collapse on him.

But that was unacceptable. He focused his mind on the mission to divert attention from the pain. His purpose was to safely remove SG-1 and their allies from this place. That was all that mattered.

Kiernan Markell beckoned him down an arched hallway. Mayor Lyall grabbed a fire torch from the wall of the dungeon and set off after them. The hall was narrow and the ceiling low, and as they continued, its disuse became more and more apparent. No one had been down this way for many years. Hopefully that would prove an advantage in their escape.

If Teal'c had to guess, he would say that the tunnel led followed the perimeter of the castle. At the moment, it was likely they were under the Great Hall built originally by the Ancients, which is why Teal'c thought it was of value to stop when he discovered a room jutting off the hallway.

Kiernan and Lyall turned and ground to a halt when they realized that he was no longer following them. Kiernan gave a low protest, insisting that they needed to keep going, but Teal'c held up a hand to silence the man as he stepped into the room. This could be important.

Teal'c recognized the Ancient style architecture; the smooth grey walls of this room did not coincide with the red stone of the tunnel. The Jaffa could not speak with authority – he wished Daniel Jackson were here – but the room looked like nothing more than a mere storage facility. However, even that was inferring quite a lot because the room contained only one object.

A white sheet covered what looked to be a large, circular table. It stood waist high and was about twelve or thirteen feet in diameter. Teal'c stepped into the musty room and looked up, noticing that there was another perfect circle, only slightly larger in diameter, carved into the ceiling directly above the table. The circle in the ceiling was covered by a shiny metal disk, which was inscribed with a design something like giant eight-petal flower. Teal'c had no doubt now that this room was located just beneath the Great Hall. He'd seen that design in the floor when SG-1 had first encountered Mordred.

However, there was something familiar about that design. Teal'c squinted at the ceiling, trying to pinpoint what it reminded him of. The transport rings! It reminded him of the retractable openings through which the transport rings would descend. In fact, looking closer Teal'c could see that the metal was not simply inscribed to look like petals; the ceiling was actually made up of eight separate metal leaves, which interlocked to form the flower shape.

In the absence of any other evidence, Teal'c could only infer that the petals on the ceiling should be able to retract and the table would likely be raised so that it would sit in the Great Hall. Teal'c couldn't imagine that the Ancients would go to such lengths just to ensure that their dinner table was accessible, so there had to be something unique about the artifact.

His curiosity piqued, Teal'c reached down and pulled the white sheet off of the table. The light of Kiernan Markell's torch illuminated the dust that flew off the sheet and clogged the air, making it clear it had been many years since anyone had uncovered the relic.

As the dust began to settle, Teal'c's eyes widened in surprise. The table itself was clearly also of Ancient design. He grabbed the torch from Kiernan and held it closer. The circumference of the table was made of a smooth, white stone that complemented the other Ancient architecture Teal'c had seen. The inside of the table was not white like the perimeter but was made up of cerulean stone that shimmered in the light of the torch. It reminded Teal'c of the Stargate's event horizon.

He'd since lost most of the Ancient knowledge he and O'Neill had garnered during their stint in the time loop, but Teal'c could easily recognize the string of Ancient symbols carved along the outside of the table. Walking around its circumference, he realized that he could even still pick out several of the words in the inscription: _radia_ (beam), _lume_ (light), _vita_ (life), _fatum_ (death).

Most interestingly, in the very center of the table, there was a small, deep slot, only about three inches in width. Without knowing the purpose of the device, Teal'c could only speculate, but the slot seemed to function as a keyhole. The Jaffa could think of no other purpose but that some key needed to be inserted into the slot in order to activate the device.

Kiernan Markell and Trevor Lyall hung back with confused faces. They looked with fascination at the table, but they were more concerned with their present situation.

"We must continue, Teal'c," Kiernan said. "I am still unsure of where the entrance to the secret tunnel is."

Teal'c drank in the sight of the Ancient artifact once more, trying to remember as much as he could in order to inform the rest of SG-1. Then he shook the sheet into the air, releasing another wave of dust, and allowed it to fall back across the table.

"Indeed."

* * *

They were only halfway down the spiral stairwell when the first guards showed up, and Jack's hope in a quick and quiet getaway was quickly erased. They could hear at least three of them coming, their heavy boots echoing ominously. Carter pressed herself to the inside of the staircase, and Jack placed himself just behind her, with Daniel and Eliana taking the rear. She adjusted her stance just enough that she'd have a clear shot when they came into sight and raised the zat.

Carter began shooting the instant the men came around the corner, only feet away from them, their swords already brandished. One dropped instantly, but the other two jumped back instinctually. Carter leaned around the column to get a better view. The two remaining guards rushed forward, hoping to overrun their position. Sam felled another one with the zat, but the third one was already on their location. She pulled back just as the third guard swung his sword around the stairwell.

Jack jumped out onto the stairs, lifting his own sword to block the guard's. He heard the painfully loud sound of metal clashing on metal and the guard's frustrated grunt. A flash of blue energy entered his vision and encircled the armored man. Fiery, burning, shocking pain ran up Jack's arms a moment later. Dropping the sword, he slammed back against the stone stairs, the wind knocked out of him.

"Carter!" Jack wheezed as air finally returned to his lungs. His hands and arms were tingling with the charring energy of the zat blast.

"Sorry, sir." She didn't sound very sorry. "I couldn't get a clean shot with your swords locked together."

"I guess metal conducts electricity, huh?" Jack whispered hoarsely. Daniel offered him a hand, and Jack grunted in pain as the archaeologist hauled him to his feet. Jack blinked hard to clear his head, and Daniel handed him the still vibrating sword.

"Yes, sir." Sam hiked up her heavy skirt, stepped over the prone bodies, and they continued down the stairs. Jack breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it to the bottom and returned to the main castle. He stepped in front of Sam and took point, hoping he remembered the way that they had come.

But they'd only made it down one corridor, when heavy boots once again encroached on their position. Without hesitation, Eliana rushed to the front of their group, peering around the corner and then leading them in a different direction. "This way," she whispered.

Jack smirked. The young woman had no weapon, and he didn't like putting her in the line of fire, but it was clear that she had good tactical instincts and more than a little chutzpah to boot. Jack liked Eliana, and they were fortunate to have her.

The going was quiet as Eliana led them through several corridors, but Jack could tell they were approaching the area around the Great Hall again. Muted laughter and loud discussion filtered through the halls.

"Guys?" Daniel's insistent voice came from the back of their group. He was covering their six, facing the direction that they had just come. Straining his ears, Jack could hear several more pairs of footsteps coming their way. They wouldn't be able to double back if they ran into someone. Sam motioned for Eliana to continue.

Another hallway and they were able to duck past the Great Hall without any notice. So far, so good. Jack felt himself relax the tiniest bit. They were nearly back to the dungeon when Eliana motioned for them to stop. Jack and Daniel pressed themselves against the wall as Sam peaked around the corner. When she turned back, her eyes were wide with adrenaline, but Jack could see fear as well.

"Mordred," she whispered and held up four fingers. "Plus three." The fingers on her other hand itched on the zat gun.

Jack took stock of the situation. Eliana had no weapon, Sam couldn't move in that heavy dress without difficulty, and his own vision had just stopped swimming. As much as he wanted to take out the smarmy king now, he knew that they had to play this right. They were still trapped in this castle until Teal'c and the others found the passage out, and any scuffle now could alert more soldiers or the guests in the Great Hall.

Jack held out his hand and motioned for Carter to keep still. They'd wait for Mordred and company to leave the hallway, and then they'd slip on by.

"You there!" A deep voice resonated from behind them.

"Crap." No such luck.

A single guard had exited the Great Hall behind them and now was running toward them already drawing his sword. Daniel leapt to his feet and ran at the guard, their swords clashing together.

Footsteps from the next hallway told Jack that Mordred and his goons had heard the commotion and were coming over. Looks like they were fighting their way out. Another series of hand motions told Carter that they'd attack together.

He pointed a finger at Eliana. "You run when the coast is clear." She gave a stiff nod.

Jack and Sam jumped around the corner and into the hallway. Mordred was hanging back. His surprise morphed into rage as he realized that all of his prisoners had escaped. His guards advanced toward them. Sam dropped one of them with the zat. Jack raised his sword, blocking another guard's thrust, and then surged forward with every ounce of energy he had.

They didn't have time for this. Jack's blade sliced through the enemy soldier's abdomen. He heaved backward to dislodge it, fighting a wave of nausea as he saw the light die in the other man's eyes. He'd hoped they wouldn't have to kill any of these men, many of whom, by Jaron Kerr's report, had been drafted and weren't there by choice.

Carter took down the last remaining guard and then leveled the zat directly at Mordred. Jack thought he looked decidedly indifferent to his plight, because without any hesitation, Carter pressed the trigger twice. Two bright blue flashes of light rushed toward Mordred … and then dissipated as they were absorbed into a field of orange energy. Carter's eyes widened as she realized it was a Goa'uld personal shield, and she sent off several more zat blasts for good measure. The shield absorbed each of them as if they were nothing.

Mordred's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and his lips curled into an unnerving grin. Daniel fell in behind Jack, having dispatched the man that he was fighting with, and the hallway fell tensely silent.

Mordred fixed his gaze on Sam. "Such spirit," he murmured. He reached out his hand out towards her, but Sam pulled away. "So like my Guinevere."

"Sir!" Carter's insistent voice sent Jack flying across the hall.

Jack swung the sword like a baseball bat, aiming for Mordred's neck and fully intending to sever it from his body. But instead of passing through the shield like it should have, the sword slammed into the energy barrier. The weapon bounced back and Jack stumbled in surprise to keep from falling. Mordred didn't even flinch at the attack but instead turned his steely expression on him.

When he spoke, his voice was that unfocused and unnervingly soft tone he'd used in the Great Hall before.

" _King for once, King for all  
_ _Usurper king soon will fall._ "

Mordred stooped indifferently, and reached for the sword beside one of the fallen guards. Jack's sword had not penetrated the shield, but Mordred could still pick up objects, it seemed. He fondled the weapon, examining the hilt and running a finger along the blade before straightening up and pointing the sword at Jack's chest.

"I will not be removed from my throne so easily, Usurper," he said, venom now coursing through his voice. His dark eyes were wild in a cold, icy way that hinted at the psychotic nature within. "It has been mine for three hundred years; it will be mine for a thousand more. You cannot kill me."

The sounds of people mulling about, exiting the Great Hall, reached the quiet hallway. Jack snapped back into action. The guards were still unconscious, and though he could not kill Mordred, the king could do nothing to stop them from leaving if they ran for it now. He had the sword, but his shield was purely defensive in nature.

Jack looked around. Eliana was pressed up against the wall, obviously terrified and trying to make herself as small as possible. Sam and Daniel were still frozen with shock. "Go," he ushered toward them, and they all jumped back to the present. "Go!"

Daniel wrapped an arm around Eliana's shoulders and helped her to her feet. Mordred took in her face, the traitoress in his castle. Daniel led off and they both walked past Mordred and Jack and Sam, continuing to the dungeon.

"Yes. Run, run," Mordred crooned. "But I will find you wherever you go." He seemed excited at the prospect of a chase.

His gaze darted from Jack to Sam and back again; his lips curled malevolently, a psychotic chuckle escaping him.

" _Bond together, bond between  
_ _bond be broken 'twixt king and his queen._ "

Jack had no idea what to make of these cryptic and nonsensical messages, but his stomach twisted in an unsettling knot, and he backed up slowly, making sure that Daniel and Eliana were already running down the next hallway that would lead to the dungeon. He scowled at Mordred, never taking his eyes off him.

"This is not over, General Jack O'Neill."

Damn straight.

"You can count on it," Jack answered resolutely before turning with Carter and racing down the hall.


	12. Chapter 12 - Escape

Happy Friday, loyal readers, and a belated Happy St. Patrick's Day as well! Thanks for sticking with this story; there's a lot more to come! -Jess

* * *

" _Yes. Run, run," Mordred crooned. "But I will find you wherever you go." He seemed excited at the prospect of a chase._

 _His gaze darted from Jack to Sam and back again; his lips curled malevolently, a psychotic chuckle escaping him._

" _This is not over, General Jack O'Neill."_

 _Damn straight._

" _You can count on it," Jack answered resolutely before turning with Carter and racing down the hall._

Chapter Twelve – Escape

The way to the dungeon was clear of guards as Jack and the others raced down the corridor. Jack couldn't hear anyone pursuing them either, but he wouldn't be waiting around to see how long that would last. They may be escaping, but they weren't free. Mordred was just giving them a head start, and somehow, that made Jack feel very unnerved. This was all a game to Mordred, and he was setting up the game pieces just the way he wanted them.

Trevor Lyall was waiting for them in the dungeon. Amid the cries of prisoners shouting "Take me with you," he gestured for them to head down a narrow hallway. With five people running, it was difficult to see where they were going or what was up ahead.

On the left, Jack could make out a room jutting off from the hall. Lyall ran passed, but Daniel stopped suddenly.

"Oof!" Jack crashed into Daniel and then felt Carter crash into him. It could have been comical if they weren't running for their lives. But they were, and Jack let his frustration show.

"Go, Daniel!" he growled. But Daniel was staring into the room.

"Jack! This could be important!" Jack glanced inside and saw an empty room with only a covered table in the center. Obviously important was a relative term.

He shoved the geek forward. "Not more important than getting out of here!" Daniel knew enough not to argue.

Further down, they found Kiernan Markell and Teal'c hauling stone blocks away from a section of the wall, a dark abyss formed where the blocks were removed.

"The passage is here!" The young captain's voice was triumphant.

The hole was just large enough to fit through if Jack stooped. Lyall took point with the fire torch, and Jack ushered everyone else through, taking inventory of his team.

Eliana rushed to Kiernan, her fiancé, and they stepped through together. She looked tired, but her eyes were filled with adrenaline. It would keep her going for a while. Teal'c's clenched jaw betrayed how much pain he was in, and he willingly placed his arm around Daniel's shoulder for support. Carter cast a look behind her to see if they were being followed. Her eyes were still full of righteous indignation, but Jack could see just how glad she was to be leaving this place behind.

"Come on, Carter. Let's get out of here." He held out a hand to her.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

She gathered her skirts in one hand, and then slipped the other one into Jack proffered palm. He helped her across the stone blocks and debris scattered on the ground, not because she really needed the help: just to remind her that he was there.

He stooped and stepped into the dark passage after her, still grasping Sam's hand. They walked like that for a couple of paces before Sam finally let go. The warmth of her calloused fingers stretched up through Jack's arm long after she retracted her hand.

Traveling though the dilapidated hidden passage was more difficult than the dungeon halls. At the front of the group, Kiernan had the only fire torch, so it was dark in the back and Jack tripped over fallen debris on several occasions. Their little group squished as close together as possible to make the best use of the torch, and in the dim light, Jack could see the tiny smirk on Sam's face as his shoulder pressed against hers.

As they walked, the floor began to slope down. The original builders had chiseled out rough steps into the path, but several rivulets of water ran through the tunnel, making the steps slick and slippery.

The dank, musty air was beginning to get oppressive, and Jack wondered how much further they'd have to go. Kiernan seemed to know where he was going, but it would still be very easy for Mordred to find them if he sent soldiers down the passage. Jack was anxious to get out of the tunnel and into a forest, or someplace else it would be more difficult for soldiers to track and follow them.

Sam took in a gasp of breath and spun around, looking back up the tunnel. Jack stopped too.

"Carter?"

"Thought I heard something."

Jack closed his eyes and listened for any signs they were being followed. At first, he heard nothing, but then, he heard a slight rustling and the muffled sound of a stone being thrown aside.

He turned back and hurried Carter along. "Think we can pick up the pace a little here?"

Kiernan pointed forward. "We are nearly there, I am sure of it! The path curves upwards up there. It must lead to the surface."

Sure enough, in only a few more paces, the ground leveled off and then a few steps led up to a wall of dirt that stretched up and over their heads. It couldn't be a dead end – that would defeat the purpose of a hidden tunnel out of the castle. So Jack got closer and began feeling along the walls, searching for some kind of door. He brushed the dirt to the ground, closing his eyes to avoid the falling particles, and then felt wet and rotten wood panel beneath.

"It's here," he said. "There's a door here."

Daniel began brushing dirt away as well and they cleared the panel together. There was no handle to pull the door into the tunnel, so it must open outwards.

"Sir…"

Everything quieted for a moment, and Jack could here footsteps clearly now. The soldiers were in the tunnel.

"All right, let's get this door open!" He braced his shoulder against the slanted door and then shoved upward with all his might. He felt the rotting wood bend beneath the force, but it moved only slightly. Dirt fell in around the panel, and in his mind's eye, Jack pictured that the hidden door, unused for centuries, was probably covered over in moss and grass.

In an instant, Daniel was next to him, bracing his own shoulder against the wood, and Trevor and Kiernan were on each side, ready to push with their hands.

"Ready?" Jack asked. Daniel nodded tightly. "Push!"

All four pushed, and the door began to move. More dirt fell into the tunnel, covering Jack's hair and face. He heard the sound of moss and weeds ripping apart, and then he could see a beam of light above them. They shoved again, and the door pushed open fully. Jack could just make out the setting sun behind a dense covering of trees and bushes.

"Go! Go!" Jack ushered everyone through the door and into the forest beyond. Trevor dashed out, followed by Kiernan and Eliana, and Teal'c with Daniel, and then Carter. Jack glanced back down the tunnel, and could just make out the light of torches and the pounding of boots.

He scrambled out of the tunnel, and slammed the door back in place.

"Where do we go?" Daniel's question was directed toward Kiernan.

Kiernan's adrenaline filled eyes whipped around, orienting himself. He pointed in the direction of the sunset. "That way. It will lead us away from the castle and to a small river."

Jack wasn't going to argue. Everyone began running, trying to put distance between themselves and the tunnel exit. Kiernan weaved and zigzagged through the trees and the dense brush, finding spaces easy enough to maneuver through, but Jack knew they were too slow. Between Teal'c's injury and the size of their group, they'd be overrun by soldiers in minutes. Jack turned his head back as he ran, expecting to see a trail of soldiers running after them.

He saw nothing.

It was strange. The soldiers had been close behind when they'd gotten out of the tunnel, and despite the many trees, Jack was certain they would have been spotted immediately after the soldiers entered the forest.

He stopped and listened. The forest was silent. The others had stopped some thirty yards ahead of Jack and were now watching him. Carter motioned for the others to stay put, and then began picking her way through the underbrush back to him. Jack motioned for her to stay still. He was going to creep back to see what happened to all of the guards, and Carter's stunning blue gown really wasn't any good for camouflage. In fact, Jack suspected that it wasn't meant to make its wearer blend in anywhere. Carter stood out like a blue jay among a flock of wrens. But that was true for Carter all of the time.

Leaving the rest of the team standing there, Jack began creeping back, placing one foot in front of the other and making as little noise as possible. He took cover behind trees and bushes and eventually caught sight of a dozen soldiers. They were all standing around the tunnel's exit. One was examining the rotten wooden panel, but not a single one carried anything except torches. In fact, there were no weapons among them at all.

A few soldiers stared off into the forest – Jack held very still as the gaze of one passed over the tree he crouched behind – but none of the men looked like they were about to go chasing after escaped prisoners. In fact, after another minute of examining the hidden passage, they reopened the wooden door and then disappeared into the tunnel, presumably heading back to the castle.

Jack may have been happy to not have to deal with outrunning a garrison of soldiers, but that didn't stop anger and disgust from pooling in his gut. Unconcerned about the noise he was making, Jack stomped back to the group, still waiting where he left them.

Daniel noticed his expression immediately. "What happened, Jack?"

"We're free to go," Jack said tersely.

"What?"

"Nobody's chasing us anymore." Jack stomped past Daniel.

Daniel still looked confused, but Teal'c understood.

"Mordred has allowed us to escape."

"Oh, my God," Sam breathed, her eyes wide. "This is all a game to him."

Jack nodded tersely and scowled. "He's playing with us. Like a cat with a mouse."

Kiernan glanced around, looking unnerved by that prospect. "We should continue on. Walking in this direction will lead us to a river, and if we follow that, it is only a few hours walk to a small village."

"It is the village in which I grew up," Eliana stated. "My family is all gone now, but I still maintain my childhood home. There we will be able to gather food and supplies." She glanced at Teal'c, who was limping heavily on his own. "In life, my father was a physician. I believe that I should have some medicines so that we may treat your wound."

Teal'c inclined his head in gratitude, and Jack felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

"We will also need a change of clothes," Jack said, feeling that he was infringing upon this young woman who had already done so much for them.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Eliana said.

"So why is Mordred playing with us?" Daniel asked. "I thought he was hell-bent on our executions so that we couldn't perpetuate the Prophecy."

Jack shrugged. "Good King Mordred's got more than a few bats in the belfry."

"Bats?" Trevor Lyall asked.

"Yeah, as in bat-shit crazy!" said Jack emphatically. "He's absolutely insane!"

"Which isn't surprising considering we know that Mordred has a Goa'uld sarcophagus," Daniel mentioned.

Carter looked up in surprise, and Teal'c's head whipped around. "What is this, Daniel Jackson?"

"Oh, we found a sarcophagus in one of the rooms of the castle when we went looking for Sam."

"Mordred uses the sleeping chamber frequently," said Eliana, "though we have never known why he does so."

"Eliana, that chamber is a device that is able to heal injuries, but it is also able to prolong a person's life," Sam said. "That's probably how Mordred has lived for hundreds of years."

"Colonel Carter, were you able to ascertain if Mordred is a Goa'uld or not?" Teal'c asked.

"He's not a Goa'uld. I'm sure of it." Sam's voice was tight, and Jack thought back to how Mordred had pressed his lips to her forehead. He shuddered. If he was a Goa'uld, Sam definitely would have sensed it when he was that close.

"And yet, so far we've seen a Goa'uld sarcophagus, and a personal forceshield," said Daniel, before he took a moment to tell Teal'c about the modified forceshield.

Something nagged at Jack. "Carter, doesn't it take naquadah to activate a personal shield?"

"No, sir," she answered. "It takes naquadah to power the Goa'uld hand device and the healing device, but not the forceshield. Anyone can use it."

"Okay." Jack stepped nimbly over a muddy patch of forest ground. "Question number two: what happened with said Goa'uld forceshield? I thought slower moving objects would still pass through." That was the only piece of physics Jack willingly let Sam know he understood.

"Mordred must have been able to modify it." Well, that was a rather un-Carter-like answer, considering he knew what all those words meant.

"But how could he do that?" Usually he'd regret asking such a question, but this time, Sam just shrugged.

"Beats me," she said, "but it makes sense that he did. After all, on a world where everyone fights with swords and bows and arrows, the original forceshield would have been completely useless."

That did make sense, but it still sucked, Jack thought. They could only assume that Mordred would already be guarding the Stargate, and there was the small matter that they had promised to try to help these people. Now SG-1 was on the run, way outmanned, and Mordred was virtually impervious to any weapon that they had or could find.

So … situation normal.

Up ahead, Jack could make out the faint sound of rushing water, and he realized just how dry his mouth was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything to drink. When they reached the small but fast moving stream, their group knelt down to scoop with their hands. In the back of his mind, Jack worried about drinking the water without treating it first, but he was too thirsty to care. Not that they really had any choice.

"So now we've seen evidence that the Goa'uld and the Ancients were here at some point in this planet's history," Daniel said, standing and wiping his chin on his sleeve.

"More so than you know, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "When fleeing the dungeon, I noticed a room with Ancient architecture. I surmised that it was located just beneath the Great Hall."

"You took a look in that room? What did you see?" Daniel went positively goo-goo eyed.

"The room was mostly empty, but when I stepped inside, I noticed a sheet covering one large object," Teal'c recounted. "I removed the sheet and found a large, circular table beneath."

"Wait, you mean a _round_ table?" Daniel asked.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and asked a little tetchily, "Is that not what I just said?"

Jack snorted. The snark was strong with this one.

"No, a round table, _the_ Round Table, is very prominent in Arthurian legend," Daniel continued. "It's the table where Arthur and his most trusted knights met together. The table was round so that no one person was more important than any other. They met on equal footing."

"How very democratic for a monarch," said Jack sardonically.

Daniel shrugged. "I guess it's the thought that counts."

"Then there may indeed be some truth to that legend, Daniel Jackson, especially if the Ancients are tied to the story. This table was most certainly Ancient."

"How could you tell?"

"There were Ancient symbols carved into the side of the Table. And do you recall seeing the interlocking design in the floor of the Great Hall, Daniel Jackson? I believe that that section of the floor retracts and the Table is raised into the chamber."

"I've never heard of anything linking the Ancients to Arthurian legend, but I guess anything's possible," Daniel said, and Jack knew that he was running through unfathomable academic implications in his head.

In front of Jack, Sam jumped over a muddy patch of ground. Her leap wasn't very graceful since she still carried her heavy skirts in both hands. She huffed unhappily before saying, "If the Ancients built it, are we sure that it's just a table?"

"What do you mean, Sam?"

"I mean when have we ever just found a _table_ belonging to the Ancients?"

"You think it's a device of some kind?"

"Some of the other Ancient artifacts we've found have been table-like in size and structure. Like the device on P4X-639."

Hmm, yes, the time-loop machine. Jack smiled a secret smile to himself.

"Or the superweapon on Dakara," said Teal'c.

Jack jerked out of some very nice memories only he retained. "So it might be a weapon?"

"We're just speculating here, sir. Don't get your hopes up." Why'd she sound so much like a mom telling her kid that ice cream was out of the question?

"Don't kill my dreams, Carter." He reached forward and poked her in the back. "We still need a way off this rock."

"Have any of you ever heard about the Round Table in your history?" Daniel addressed Trevor, Kiernan, and Eliana, and though the former two were silent, the latter was the one to speak up.

"I have."

"Eliana?" Kiernan sounded surprised by his fiancée's admission.

"My father was a physician, but his hobby – a rather dangerous and stupid one in my mother's opinion – was collecting ancient texts that record the true history of our country," Eliana explained. "These books were banned by Mordred, and anyone found possessing them were put to death, but my father was adamant that they must be preserved. Their presence in my family's home is the reason why I have not cleaned out the house after my father's death. I have no idea what to do with those texts."

"Well, they may be very useful now," Daniel said encouragingly.

They walked in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the rushing river next to them. The landscape was completely dark now save for the two moons that had appeared again. They still didn't have a plan, but they'd rest and refuel at Eliana's home and hopefully learn more about this Round Table … which may or may not be a weapon, Jack thought almost rebelliously with a glance at Carter. So, they were well on their way to … having a plan. Jack was satisfied for the moment.

"Damn it!" Ahead of him, Carter swore softly as she stumbled on a tree root. She righted herself and all but stomped forward. It wasn't the nicest thought, but Jack couldn't help but think that she was a little … cute when she was frustrated. He sidled up to her so that they were out of earshot of everyone else.

"Carter?"

"What, sir?" She said grumpily. The 'sir' was tacked on as an afterthought.

"I know that you hate it, but…" he leaned close to her and whispered impishly, "the dress still kinda works for me."

Jack smirked and continued forward as Carter stopped in shock, her heavy skirts piled in her arms and a small noise of indignation escaping from her mouth.


	13. Chapter 13 - Secret History

Apologies for the lateness of this post, but I make it up by giving you a slightly longer chapter than usual. Just a warning, the next couple installments will be a little dense with new material, but get through them and we'll have set up the basis for the rest of the story. Also, action is never too far behind SG-1, and it will come again soon!

Thanks for reading and reviewing and a joyous Easter weekend to all! -Jess

* * *

" _Damn it!" Ahead of him, Carter swore softly as she stumbled on a tree root. She righted herself and all but stomped forward. It wasn't the nicest thought, but Jack couldn't help but think that she was a little … cute when she was frustrated. He sidled up to her so that they were out of earshot of everyone else._

" _Carter?"_

" _What, sir?" She said grumpily. The 'sir' was tacked on as an afterthought._

" _I know that you hate it, but…" he leaned close to her and whispered impishly, "the dress still kinda works for me."_

 _Jack smirked and continued forward as Carter stopped in shock, her heavy skirts piled in her arms and a small noise of indignation escaping from her mouth._

Chapter Thirteen – Secret History

It was the middle of the night when their little group trudged into Brecknia, Eliana's home village. The moons were out, but everything was quiet, so they simply slipped quietly between the stone cottages. Daniel was still supporting Teal'c, who wasn't even trying to hide his limp anymore. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it would break, and Teal'c's dark face held an unnatural pallor in the light of the double moons. He stumbled, and Daniel wondered if he would pass out. Jack appeared on Teal'c's other side, and the Jaffa didn't object to the extra help.

Eliana cast a worried glance back at them. "The house is just around this corner," she whispered.

The young woman led them to the outskirts of the town, to a comfortable looking two-story dwelling with wooden walls and a thatched roof. They went in through the back way to avoid being noticed by any insomniac neighbors lurking about. They piled into the house, which smelled slightly stale, as if it had been shut up for quite some time. Eliana found and lit a small lantern, and Daniel saw that the back room that they'd entered into was small, made even more so but the cluttered bookshelves lining every wall.

Eliana instructed Kiernan to draw water from the well out back before directing Daniel and Jack to help Teal'c into a bedroom on the first floor. Teal'c sagged onto the bed, and Daniel noticed that the Jaffa's body was shaking all over. He looked exhausted, and Daniel suspected that they didn't look much better.

He rolled his sore shoulders, welcoming some feeling back to his arms, as Sam and Eliana entered, holding bandages and a small ceramic jar. It turned out that Eliana was a competent and proficient nurse. She wasted no time in pulling off Teal'c's boot and then cutting up his pantleg to expose the raw and weepy wound. Teal'c flinched as she placed her hand on his calf.

"It is warm to the touch, but I do not think that you will lose your leg, Teal'c," she said with a small smile.

Daniel felt a small pain lance through him as he realized her warm demeanor mixed with a no-nonsense attitude reminded him of Janet Fraiser.

"That is good news," said Teal'c softly.

Eliana tipped the jar and poured a thick liquid into her hand. She spread a liberal amount of the salve – its color and consistency reminded Daniel of honey – on Teal'c's leg before she wrapped it in clean bandages and elevated it with several pillows. She then scooped a spoonful of the medicine out of the jar and addressed Teal'c.

"I have applied this salve to your wound, but you must also swallow a bit of it. It will cause you to sleep deeply, so that your body may heal itself."

Teal'c dutifully swallowed the spoonful, and within seconds, his head sagged onto the pillow, his tense face finally lax in sleep. Jack pressed his fingers against Teal'c's neck for good measure.

"Strong pulse," he announced. "He's just dead to the world."

Sam gestured to the salve, her eyes wide with curiosity. "So it's both an antibiotic and an anesthetic?"

Eliana closed the jar. "If by that you mean that this salve both causes the patient to fall asleep and staves off potential infection, then yes. My father used to swear by it."

Jack looked impressed. "We're definitely going to want some of that." Sam nodded in agreement.

Satisfied that Teal'c was comfortably resting, Eliana led them to the general living space, which included a few benches, a small hearth for cooking, and little else. Kiernan returned with a pitcher of water, and Daniel drank deeply when it was his turn. Eliana appeared with a half dozen blankets and began passing them around.

"There is one other bedroom located upstairs in the loft," said Eliana, pointing to a ladder which led to the floor above. "Sam and I will share that room. The rest of you may sleep on the floor down here. It will be morning in a few hours. Mayor Lyall has agreed to keep watch until then."

So it wasn't the Ritz, but it was a far cry from the dungeon cell they'd inhabited hours before. Besides, Daniel was too exhausted to care.

"Thank you, Eliana," he said. "You've done more than we could have asked for." She gave him a shy smile before handing him the last blanket. Daniel spread it out, lay down, and covered himself with the other half of the blanket. He was asleep before his head hit the wooden floor.

* * *

With a disappointed huff, Sam closed the giant musty book she'd been examining. The language appeared to be a derivation of some kind of Middle English, but Sam couldn't make out more than a few words on any given page. She'd taken to searching for any depictions of the Round Table that could explain how the device worked or what its purpose was, but this was the twelfth tome that she'd paged through in the last hour, and so far she hadn't found any useful diagrams of the Table or Ancient technology of any kind.

Sam ran a hand over her forehead and wiped a bead of sweat from her hairline. She, along with Daniel and Trevor Lyall, had been crouched in this stuffy little room since early that morning. The sun was now high in the sky. Its light peaked through the windows and illuminated the dust lingering in the stagnant air.

Considering Trevor had the best handle on the language, he'd been reading everything he could find on the forbidden history of his country. Face shining with excitement, he stopped every so often to tell Sam and Daniel what he was learning. He may have been the mayor of Ancelin, but Sam could tell that he was really a scholar at heart.

Daniel was completely in his element as well, crouched low over a dusty book that included a copy of the Ancient inscription on the Round Table. Obviously, the person who had transcribed the message had no idea what it meant, but Daniel had been working through it for the past half hour, looking away from the book only to scribble a note on a word or phrase to himself.

Teal'c was resting in the other room again. He'd woken up long enough to eat and drink before requesting to sleep again. His wound was still ugly, but even a couple hours seemed to have done him some good. The antibiotic that Eliana had promised was a powerful drug. They'd definitely be bringing some of that stuff home with them.

Light footsteps pattered swiftly over the floor above Sam. She knew that Eliana was gathering food and supplies into rucksacks for them to carry when they left. As of the moment, they had no idea where they would be going, but it was clear that it was dangerous to remain in one spot for too long, especially since it was clear that Kiernan and Eliana had betrayed Mordred. The king would soon send troops to their village, and they needed to be gone before that happened. Kiernan was now standing watch at the edge of the city; if the soldiers were coming, they'd at least have enough warning to get out of town.

Sam rubbed her eyes in frustration. They needed a plan, and all of this studying was only getting them so far.

The door to the study creaked opened and Jack entered, returning from his own shift keeping watch. He was dressed like the rest of them in a set of clothes that Eliana had managed to find. Jack's outfit, a long-sleeved tan shirt with dark brown trousers and sturdy laced boots, had belonged to Eliana's late father, who'd apparently been a rather robust man. That had worked for Teal'c, who was now dressed in a similar set of clothes, but the shirt hung loosely around Jack's torso until Eliana had found him a piece of rope to use as a belt.

Jack frowned and pushed the long, loose sleeves up to his elbows. Sam knew he thought he looked silly, but she didn't think so. The unassuming, earthy colors complimented his dark eyes.

Then again, she wasn't much happier with her own outfit. Eliana had given her a long-sleeved linen dress called a chemise, which was only the first of several very warm layers of clothing. Over the chemise came a long woolen skirt. The heavy material made Sam sigh in exasperation, thinking about more traipsing through the forest, trying to keep from tripping. And when Eliana brought out _another_ dress – the kirtle, she called it – which was supposed to go over the skirt, Sam figured she would die of heat stroke. This dress was a dark green color, faded from many years of wear. There were laces on both sides of the waist so that it could be cinched tight, but the skirt was left open along the sides so that the brown skirt could be seen beneath.

Cassie would laugh her head off if she ever saw her, but Sam figured it was preferable to the blue satin monstrosity.

Jack meandered over to the archaeologist and peered over his shoulder. "Whatcha learnin', Daniel?"

Daniel didn't seem to hear him. Not one to be ignored, Jack petulantly stuck his pinky finger in his mouth and then wedged it into Daniel's ear.

"Jack!" Daniel flinched and pulled away from the Wet Willy. He slapped the General's hand without ever looking up from the book.

"Ouch!" Jack pouted and made a show of cradling his smacked hand. Sam smirked and shook her head at their childish antics.

"Can't say you didn't deserve that, sir."

"A general gets no respect these days."

"Not generals in general, sir. Just you." Sam teased lightly, and she enjoyed that Jack's lips quirked in response.

He glanced at Trevor Lyall and then again at Daniel, both stooped over the parchment, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Like kids on Christmas morning," Jack observed. "I'm not going to get anything from either of them, so why don't you give me an update, Carter."

He leaned up against the small table Sam was working at. She gathered her thoughts, reached across the workspace to grab three or four books scattered about, and began flipping them open to helpful passages. "Alright, we've found out quite a lot, but I'll try to tell you what we've learned chronologically.

"We know that the Ancients were obviously here sometime in the distant past," she began. "From what we've learned from the Atlantis Expedition, the Ancients came to the Milky Way from Pegasus to escape the Wraith. They landed on Dakara and then settled on Earth for a time, but they also began visiting other planets and setting up research posts. We're guessing that the Great Hall was originally one of these sites, and the Round Table some kind of experiment."

Jack was doing his best to look interested.

"At some point, the Ancients left this planet. Daniel thinks it's reasonable that they ascended or were recalled to join the rest of their people. In any case, they lowered the Round Table beneath the Great Hall but otherwise left it intact.

"So far, so good?" Sam paused after seeing Jack's eyes gloss over.

Jack nodded like the new information was making his brain heavy. "I'm okay."

"Okay, so flash forward several thousand years to about the year A.D. 1200, give or take a couple hundred years," Sam continued, opening a book with colorful medieval illustrations. With some visual stimulation, Jack's attention returned. One picture caught his interest, and he jabbed a finger at the parchment. "Carter, is that … a Goa'uld mothership?"

"Yes, sir." The artwork was crude, with gangly, cartoon characters, but one picture clearly showed a giant pyramid descending from the sky and coming to rest on top of a lone mountain. "You see, when the Ancients left this planet, they took their Stargate with them. For a while the Goa'uld never knew about this world or the Ancient outpost. But then a minor Goa'uld, whose name was…" Sam searched through the records.

"Daghda, the Celtic god of the earth." Sam and Jack's head swiveled to Daniel, who was apparently still keeping tabs on the conversation.

"Right," Sam picked it up again. "Daghda had no territory of his own, but he had been traveling by ship with a small army of Jaffa when came across the Ancient outpost. When he realized that the other Goa'uld had no knowledge of this place, he decided that it would be a great homeplanet for him to grow his forces. But to do that he needed a lot more slaves, so he took the ship to Earth, kidnapped several thousand people from the British Isles, and then transplanted them here. He also brought a Stargate to this planet so that he could come and go as he pleased.

"He spread the people out on this continent and on several others on the planet and set them to work in the mines and in the fields. Along with his contingent of Jaffa, Daghda began training humans as foot soldiers. Daghda's status among the Goa'uld began to grow, but the slaves became angry at their mistreatment and rebelled."

Sam flipped the page to a picture of a strong, young soldier brandishing a sword. Sam jabbed her finger at the image. "It's said that a young military commander named Arthur rose up and united Daghda's human soldiers. He then led the rebels in the Battle of Mount Badon, where it's said that Arthur destroyed the Goa'uld and a thousand Jaffa singlehandedly."

Sam glanced up at Jack. "Singlehandedly," he said, looking decidedly unconvinced.

Sam shrugged. "That's what Daniel said it says," Sam had scribbled some notes to herself regarding what Daniel had said about the more important passages, and from that she read: " _Nine hundred and forty fell by Arthur's hand alone, no one but the Lord affording him assistance_."

"God?" Jack looked even more skeptical. "God helped Arthur singlehandedly destroy an army of Jaffa?"

"That's what it says," Sam said. "Daghda and the majority of his army were killed, and the few Jaffa left manning the mothership in orbit left the planet and never returned."

"So that's why we've seen a sarcophagus and a Goa'uld forceshield in the castle. They were left here after the Jaffa turned tail and ran."

"That's right."

"Okay, so what really happened?" Jack asked. "How did he really kill all of those Jaffa himself?"

"You don't believe in miracles, sir?" Sam asked, mildly amused.

Jack's smirk fell away, and Sam regretted the question. She considered the memories flooding his mind, memories that Jack would sooner forget. "Kinda hard to after everything we've seen, Carter."

Sam felt her brow furrow. Jack noticed her expression.

"What?" he asked, curiously. "You _do_ believe in miracles?"

Sam held his gaze. "Kinda hard not to after everything we've seen."

They stared for a second before Sam continued. "But in this case, you're probably right. In fact, my guess is that the Ancient Round Table had something to do with it."

She flipped to one more illustration. This one apparently showed the Battle of Mount Badon. The Goa'uld mothership was landed on the planet's surface – presumably parked on top of the Mount Badon in question. A giant army of humans surrounded the mothership, but they obviously had no reason to fight, because every Jaffa in the picture was dead, sprawled on the ground and not a single battle wound to be seen. On the far side of the illustration, Arthur stood next to the Round Table, surveying the battle.

"Hot damn! So you think that thing's a weapon?" Jack's attention was warranted if the Table was a weapon able to take out entire armies in one fell swoop.

"Well, it would be strange to include the Table in this picture if it didn't have something to do with the battle. That's what's Daniel's trying to figure out right now. He's reading the inscription on the side of the Table to try to figure out what it was meant to do."

"Alright, is that all?" Jack rubbed his temples dramatically. "I don't know how much more I can take."

Sam grinned. "That's pretty much everything, sir. The rest of the story you already know. Arthur became king and Albion was peaceful and prosperous. Then Mordred usurped the throne, defeated Arthur in the Battle of Camlann, and has ruled Albion for the last three hundred years."

"Don't tell me!" Jack pointed excitedly, making a connection. "He's using the sarcophagus even though he's not a Goa'uld."

"Yes, sir. Just like King Pyrus was on P3R-636."

Jack raised his voice to an annoyingly noticeable level. "Oh yes!" he crowed. "I remember that particular episode! That was where our boon companion Dr. Jackson courted a princess and left his friends to die in a mine. Isn't that right, Carter?"

"Hey!" Daniel's voice was indignant. "I thought we agreed never to mention that planet again!"

Jack swiveled to face the archaeologist. "Do you have anything useful to add to this conversation?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

The already small workspace grew even tighter as Daniel shoved another book onto the desk.

"Nimue," he said simply.

"What?"

"Nimue."

"Nim-oo-way?" Jack parroted, testing out the strange word.

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "Nimue."

Jack's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you deliberately trying to be cryptic?"

"In Arthurian mythology, Nimue, sometimes called Nyneve or Viviane, was a sorceress who lived on the Isle of Avalon and was known as the Lady of the Lake. But she was also an Ancient scientist."

"What makes you say that, Daniel?" Sam asked.

Daniel jostled between them to reach for the book, bumping into both of his friends in the process. Jack rolled his eyes in what Sam knew was good-natured annoyance but allowed Daniel to continue. He scanned the copy of the Ancient inscription from the Round Table and pointed to a section of text. "Right here it lists the names of several Ancients who were involved in the creation of the Round Table, but the leader of the project was a woman named Nimue.

"Now, from what I can tell, the Table isn't really a table at all. It's an Ancient power generator."

"Yes!" Jack was looking more and more excited.

"Calm down, Jack, it's not meant to do what you think. The inscription on the side of the Table indicates that it wasn't created to be a weapon of destruction but as an instrument of creation. See, this Nimue seems to have been an environmental scientist hoping to create a device that would make planets more habitable for humans … or Ancients, as it would have been."

"It was meant to terraform planets?"

"Yep. The inscription indicates that the Nimue and her team were working on a device that could rectify short or long-term environmental issues, encourage the growth of plant life over significant distances, and create new rivers and other bodies of water."

"It's fascinating!" Sam breathed, looking intently at the cartoonish depiction of the Table in the old tome. The whole concept of terraforming planets was still almost completely theoretical from an Earth perspective. What she wouldn't give to dig around inside the machine and figure out how it worked!

"Yes, fascinating." Jack's tone indicated he thought it was anything but. "So what happened?"

"Excuse me?"

"What happened?" Jack asked again. "When Teal'c found the Table it was covered up beneath the Great Hall, but clearly it was used during the battle with Dad-da at some point."

"Daghda," Daniel corrected absentmindedly. "And who knows what happened? It's possible the device never truly worked at all and the Ancients simply shut the device down and left it in place when they left or ascended."

Sam chimed in. "Or maybe it did work, but the Ancients' instrument of creation was modified by Arthur to become a weapon."

Jack looked at her thoughtfully. "You mean like the device you and Dad modified on Dakara to defeat the Replicators?"

Sam nodded, and Daniel considered that. "That's a good point. All we know is that the Albians knew about the Table when Arthur overthrew Daghda, but I can't tell you any more than that."

"I believe that I can help." The three turned to Trevor, who was still staring down at a giant musty book.

"What did you find?" Sam asked.

Trevor flipped open to a page, but before he could say anything, the back door slammed open, and Kiernan rushed in, his eyes wide and adrenaline filled. "They are coming."

"The soldiers?" Daniel asked.

"Yes. We have five, perhaps ten minutes before they will be in the village."

Eliana rushed into the room, her arms full of rucksacks stuffed with food and supplies. Sam grabbed one and swung it onto her back.

Jack wheeled around and headed toward the front of the house. Teal'c poked his head out of the spare bedroom before Jack could knock on the door.

"We are departing?" Sam thought Teal'c's dark face still held an unnatural pallor, but she never would have said anything.

"Yep. Time to go." Jack thrust one of the full rucksacks at the Jaffa, who immediately began placing it on his back.

"Daniel? What are you doing?" The archaeologist whizzed past Sam with several sizeable volumes in his hands. He grabbed the book that contained the Round Table transcription and the book with the depiction of the Battle of Mount Badon before grabbing Trevor's book right out of his hands and ramming all of them into his nearly full rucksack.

"We can't leave these books here. They could still be useful." Daniel swung the pack onto his back. He winced a little at the weight, but Sam knew that he'd never lighten the load.

"Alright," Jack said, herding everyone to the back door. "Let's get outta here."

* * *

This history major would be remiss if she did not cite her historical sources! The quote about Arthur singlehandedly killing 940 (also cited as 960) enemy soldiers at the Battle of Mount Badon comes from the _Historia Brittonum_ , a document written by Nennius, a Welsh monk who lived in the 9th century.

There's your fun fact of the day!


	14. Chapter 14 - Political Divide

Happy Friday, all! It's been a week to end all busy weeks for me, so I'm pleased that I was able to get this up on time!

This chapter has a bit more new information (almost done with that, I promise), which will be important in the rest of the story. And I've put a smidge of ship in the end, just for good measure! Enjoy! -Jess

* * *

" _We are departing?" Sam thought Teal'c's dark face still held an unnatural pallor, but she never would have said anything._

" _Yep. Time to go." Jack thrust one of the full rucksacks at the Jaffa, who immediately began placing it on his back._

" _Daniel? What are you doing?" The archaeologist whizzed past Sam with several sizeable volumes in his hands. He grabbed the book that contained the Round Table transcription and the book with the depiction of the Battle of Mount Badon before grabbing Trevor's book right out of his hands and ramming all of them into his nearly full rucksack._

" _We can't leave these books here. They could still be useful." Daniel swung the pack onto his back. He winced a little at the weight, but Sam knew that he'd never lighten the load._

" _Alright," Jack said, herding everyone to the back door. "Let's get outta here."_

Chapter Fourteen – Political Divide

They hurried out the back door and down a side street. Daniel fervently wished that there were an easier way to get out of the village. They couldn't help but be noticed by all of the villagers who were looking with interest at all of their heavy rucksacks, not to mention the fact that Trevor, Kiernan, and Jack were wielding swords. If the soldiers questioned them, it would be very easy to point out which way this group of strangers was headed.

Jack must have been thinking the same thing, because she saw him motion to Kiernan that they needed to change directions once they were out of the village. Kiernan nodded, and soon after they reached the forest beyond the village, they took a sharp right to keep them as far away from the original path as possible.

There was no sign that they were being followed, at least not yet. Thank God for small mercies. But now they were on the run again, trying to put as much distance between them and the soldiers with no real idea of where they were going. They still needed a plan.

Daniel grunted as he hefted his rucksack back up on his back. He was carrying nearly twice the weight everyone else was, but that was his own cross to bear. He was the one who wanted to bring all of the books, and he didn't regret that – though his back might in the morning. But there were still things they could learn from them.

Sam was passing their journey by once again recounting what she'd told Jack an hour before. Teal'c was glad to finally understand why a Goa'uld presence on this planet made sense, and was even gladder to know that they had been gone for hundreds of years. The Ancelinians didn't really understand the significance of the Ancients having inhabited the planet, but they understood that the Round Table was somehow important.

That reminded him, Trevor Lyall had been about to tell them of something he'd learned before the soldiers had shown up.

"Trevor," he called. "What were you about to say before the soldiers showed up?"

"I was going to say that that woman, Nimue, the one you called an …"

"An Ancient," Daniel provided.

"Yes, if she did indeed leave this world, then she came back later to help King Arthur defeat the Goa'uld who ruled this planet."

"Really?" Daniel said excitedly. "What did it say?"

Trevor turned towards him. "If you will allow me to retrieve the book from your pack, I will read it."

Daniel stopped and allowed him to grab the book – _The Historical Chronicles of the Realm of Albion_ – before they continued on. Trevor opened to a marked page and read as he walked.

" _And throughout Albion wandered Nimue, a good witch and true. She desired to banish the Oppressors of old, and Arthur sought her assistance. From her he acquired the sword Cut-Steel, that is Excalibur, the key to the Oppressors' destruction. And he returned to Camelot, where he struck down the enemy's army singlehandedly in the Battle of Mount Badon."_

Sam's brow was furrowed when she turned to Daniel. "If Nimue Ascended, would she have been able to come back to live on the planet again during Arthur's time?"

Daniel shrugged. "I suppose it's possible." Truth be told, it frustrated him that after all of this time, he still didn't understand the rules that governed the higher planes of existence.

"We've seen it happen before," Jack stated.

"When?" Daniel asked.

"With Carter's glowy … friend."

"Orlin?"

Jack looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, him."

"He's right," Sam said. "But that was specifically because he was in exile. Orlin's punishment for interfering with the Velonans was to live on the planet."

"Well, it looks like Nimue was interfering here; maybe the same thing happened to her," Daniel conjectured.

"So what is so important about this sword?" Jack asked. "I thought we'd established that Arthur killed everyone with the Round Table device. Plus, if that Goa'uld had been wearing that modified personal shield, a sword wouldn't have done any good."

Teal'c had been quiet for a long while, but then he spoke up. "Perhaps 'key' is meant to be taken literally," he said. "When I observed the Round Table, I noticed that in the center there is a hole, perhaps three inches across."

"Thank would be just about the right width for a sword," said Trevor excitedly.

"A key which would activate the Round Table," Daniel pondered. "The 'key' to Daghda's destruction… Jack, I really think that we need to find this sword! If the Round Table could destroy a Goa'uld and his army, then maybe it's also a weapon we could use against Mordred."

"Now wait just a cotton-pickin' minute," said Jack irritably. "Before we set off on any quest, do we even know what this Round Table's supposed to do?"

Silence all around. Even Daniel couldn't deny that Jack had a point. He shrugged. "No, I guess we really don't know what it does, but our sources have pointed to the importance of the Round Table and the Sword in defeating a Goa'uld and his army. Even if it doesn't help us defeat Mordred, isn't it at least worth checking out?"

"Well, if you want to find a big honkin' weapon, I won't argue with that!" It was easier than baiting one of the crappies in Jack's pond. "Now how do you propose we find this sword?"

"Does that book talk about what happened to Excalibur?" Daniel asked Trevor.

Trevor began reading again:

" _The traitor Mordred emerged victorious in the Battle of Camlann. Arthur lay dying from his mortal wound, but his trusted knights placed him on a barge and bore him to the Isle of Avalon where lived the good witch Nimue, to whom Sir Bedivere returned the enchanted sword Excalibur. And there Arthur was buried, at the center of Albion where the Sistern River becomes two._ "

Before Daniel could remark that it sounded very much like the Earth legend of Arthur's death, Eliana and Kiernan turned and shrieked together.

"No!"

"You cannot!"

Everyone halted in their steps. Daniel looked at both of them, startled at the ferocity in their voices. "Excuse me?"

"The place where the Sistern River diverges is forbidden! You cannot go there!" Eliana squealed.

"No one has ever seen the place where the river splits into its west and north forks," Kiernan added. "It is called the Devil's Circle, an area that is constantly surrounded by heavy fog and mist. Those foolish enough to walk or sail into the mist have never returned!"

Jack looked at Daniel, asking if he knew anything about this. Daniel shrugged. "Some kind of Bermuda Triangle?"

"That's just urban legend, Daniel," Jack groused. "There's nothing more dangerous about that area than any other part of the ocean."

"The Devil's Circle is most certainly real here!" insisted Kiernan. "Even on maps, that area is left completely blank because no one has examined it and lived to tell about what is there."

"Now wait a minute," Sam said. "You're talking about a river divergence, a bifurcation, correct? In the center of the continent?"

Daniel understood why Sam was curious. It was far more common for rivers to converge, to come together, than to diverge unless they were talking about a delta region near the edge of a landmass. For a river to diverge into two separate branches in the middles of a continent was rare, at least on Earth.

"Yes, it is certain both rivers come from the same source." This time it was Trevor who spoke up. "The West Sistern River flows into the Albion Sea by going very near to Ancelin." There was understandably still pain in his voice as he spoke of his destroyed village.

"And the North Sistern River is the boundary between Albion and the neighboring country, Ierne," Eliana continued.

Trevor scoffed. "Country? Ierne is no such thing. The Ierneans are brigands, rebels who live by pillaging and thieving!"

The usually good-natured mayor glared at Eliana, who glared right back at him. "They want the same thing we want!" she said hotly. "They want the fall of Mordred!"

"So that they can claim the throne for themselves! We want the rightful king on the throne! There is a great difference between us and them."

"Whoa! Whoa!" Jack stepped between Trevor and Eliana, who now looked angry enough to attack Mayor Lyall. Teal'c's eyebrow lifted as he surveyed the altercation. "What's going on?"

But no one could hear anything because Eliana and Trevor began arguing over each other.

Jack rolled his eyes. Then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew an earsplitting whistle that echoed through the forest. It shut the arguing Albians up, but Daniel hoped Mordred's soldiers were nowhere close.

"All right," Jack said, looking at Trevor and Eliana sternly. "You two don't get to talk anymore."

Everything was silence again, but there was a palpable tension in the air now.

"Now," Jack spoke clearly, as if he were talking to a couple of eight year olds. "Why don't we all take a deep breath, make camp, and get supper going? Sound good?"

Eliana was silent, and Trevor's jaw was still clenched.

"That is a wise and prudent ruling, O'Neill," Teal'c said, effectively clearing the air.

"Yes, I thought so," said Jack judiciously. "Thank you, Teal'c."

* * *

Sam hadn't even realized how late it was getting until Jack had suggested they make camp for the night. The sun had already dipped far below the treeline and the forest was rapidly darkening. Sam's stomach gave a loud moan and she realized that they'd missed eating lunch in their rush to get away from Brecknia.

Now there was a small fire crackling softly in the quiet forest. It was just large enough to heat up some water for the soup Eliana was preparing, but small enough that the smoke or flames wouldn't be able to give away their position. They'd decided to extinguish it soon after supper, and hope that the summer night was comfortable enough without it.

A cool breeze blew through the trees, but at least the sky was clear, because they'd only packed light bedrolls to sleep on. They'd sleep out under the stars and the double moons tonight. Sam unrolled her thin mattress on a flat stretch of ground near the perimeter of their tiny campsite.

The sound of a cracking twig drew Sam's attention to the dark forest beyond. She instinctively reached for her missing P-90, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just Jack, returning from a patrol around the area.

"Everything good?" she asked.

"Yep. Nine o'clock and all is well." Jack looked towards the rapidly falling sun. "Well, nine o'clock, give or take." He gave her a small smile.

He stepped past her and moved closer to the fire, where Eliana was dishing up the vegetable soup into cups and passing them around.

"I don't think we'll have any visitors tonight," Jack said, grabbing his own bedroll and rolling it out on the ground. "But it won't hurt to set up a watch. I'll go first, and then Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c."

Sam didn't miss that Jack had unrolled his pallet next to hers. She tried to catch his eyes in the dim lighting, but Jack turned away from her.

"Teal'c," he said quickly. "How's the leg?"

Teal'c was sitting against a nearby tree, his eyes closed and head tilted back against the bark. He made no reply. Daniel was redressing the wound, but he turned to Jack with his finger to his lips.

"I think he's asleep," Daniel whispered.

"Seriously?" Teal'c never just feel asleep before everything was done for the day.

"He just kind of passed out as soon as he sat down, but I suppose he just needs more time to heal. His leg doesn't look much better than before."

"Yeah, I suppose it's that," Jack said, but his voice was tinged with concealed worry. "Maybe we'll cut him from the watch tonight. We'll let him get as much sleep as he can."

"I could do it." Eliana looked up from the fire. "I could take Teal'c's watch."

"Really?" Jack said skeptically as he looked over at her. "And I don't have to worry about you killing _that_ one." He pointed at Trevor who was leaning against a tree, his head stuck in the _Chronicles of Albion_ book.

Eliana blushed. "I am sorry for how I reacted. The subject of the people of Ierne have been a source of discord among the Albians for many generations."

Politics really did divide people wherever it existed, Sam considered ruefully. She drew near the fire, taking a seat on a fallen tree. She took a sip of soup. The portion was small, but it was warm and soothing.

"So maybe you want to tell us – calmly – what got your knickers in a twist before?" Jack said. He sat down next to Sam, close but not quite touching her.

Eliana and Kiernan sat down opposite them, and Eliana motioned for her fiancé to speak first.

Kiernan sighed. "Over two hundred years ago, many of the nobles in Camlann became fed up with Mordred's reign. Their attempts to influence him proved pointless, and when they began drawing the king's wrath, they knew that their only option was to leave the kingdom. They traveled by ship to the other side of the continent, a harsh and mountainous region that had been considered uninhabitable. Against the odds, they survived in this environment, built homes in the mountains, and called their new county Ierne."

"Interesting," Daniel quipped.

"What is?" Jack asked.

"The name of the country. Albion is the ancient name of England; Ierne is the ancient name of Ireland. Both were referenced by Aristotle and by Ptolemy."

"That is interesting, Daniel," said Jack, a little derisively. "And also completely unhelpful." He motioned toward Kiernan. "Continue."

"After those nobles set up a new government in Ierne, many lower class Albians soon began to join them, and people continue to emigrate there today."

Eliana spoke next. "My father's brother, my uncle, moved his family to Ierne before I was born. He was a successful merchant when he lived in Albion, but he felt it would be better to live the hard life of a mountain farmer if it meant that he could escape Mordred's hard taxes. Their lives were not easy, but they were together."

"Were?" Sam cringed, noting the deliberate use of the past tense. Eliana's eyes filled with pain but she continued.

"The other reason my uncle left was so that my cousins would not be drafted into Mordred's army, as my two brothers eventually were. Of course, it worked, but in the last ten years, Mordred has launched campaigns intending to destroy the Ierneans. Ierne knew they needed to create an army to fight against Mordred's forces.

"My cousins were forced to fight against my brothers to defend their new country." The small fire illuminated the tear running down Eliana's face. "All four died in the battle."

The fire crackled in the silence.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jack's voice was genuine. "But I have to ask: if these people are basically refugees fleeing an oppressive tyrant, then what's _his_ problem?" Jack indicated Trevor Lyall.

Trevor snapped the book shut and stood close to the fire. "The problem, General O'Neill, is that these people are not the innocent refugees they would have you believe they are!" His eyes were still alight with an intensity Sam never would have expected when they first met.

"Yes, Mordred redoubled his efforts to subdue the people of Ierne. But the war we are fighting now is the Ierneans' fault. They are the ones who raided the coastal city of Meridon looking for food and supplies. They pillaged the village with no concern for the people who used to be their fellow countrymen. Sixteen Albians died because of that raid."

"A small number considering hundreds of Ierneans have died because of Mordred's war!" Eliana protested. "My uncle…"

" _My_ uncle and aunt were two of the sixteen innocent people killed in that incursion!" Trevor exclaimed. Sam winced in sympathy. "My family took in my cousin, Jaron, and raised him as my brother. When we were older, we were both drafted into the army. We didn't agree with Mordred, but Jaron was committed to revenging the senseless deaths of his parents, and if that meant fighting on Mordred's behalf, then so be it!"

Eliana looked about ready to explode again, but Kiernan placed a hand on her arm. She turned on him, still glaring, but he shook his head gently and began rubbing her back. Eliana sighed, deflated.

"I am sorry for your family, Mayor Lyall," Eliana said gravely. "They did not deserve what happened to them. I do not deny the Ierneans conducted those raids, but not all of the Ierneans are responsible."

Trevor gave a soft huff. "If they support such measures, then they are all responsible."

Jack jumped in, trying to force an uneasy truce. "Well, for now, we're going to have to agree to disagree," he said sternly. "We're going to go to bed and then figure out how to proceed tomorrow. Eliana will take Teal'c's shift, and we'll leave tomorrow at dawn. Everybody got that?"

"Yes, sir," said Kiernan. The others nodded.

"Good."

By the time the sun had fully set, the fire was extinguished and the majority of their group was climbing beneath thin blankets. Sam yawned, excited to rest her aching muscles, but the empty bedroll next to hers drew her attention and she looked around.

Jack was just outside of their campsite, leaning against the trunk of a large tree for the start of his watch. As always, he'd chosen his position strategically; most of the ground around him sloped downward, giving him a good view of the surrounding valley.

He looked deep in thought and something drew her to him. Sam couldn't deny how glad she was that he was here with the rest of SG-1. Age-defying tyrants aside, she'd really enjoyed having him back on the team. Just like old times.

But it wasn't really like old times now that Sam thought about it. Because now she was admiring how the moonlight played off Jack O'Neill's stark features without the gut-wrenching impossibility of being with him that had been present for so many years. Now, her heart beat with the realization that the galactic situation was finally stabilizing, and they were no longer needed on the frontlines. All it would take would be one reassignment, one retirement, to open the door for them, and they were both willing to do it. They'd established that much over beers and quiet conversation on a rickety wooden dock in Minnesota.

Without a word, Sam sat down on the ground next to him, spreading her skirts around her legs.

"You've got to get take watch in a couple'a hours, Carter" Jack said, looking at her. "You should be in bed."

"Probably."

A raised eyebrow accompanied her stark response, but Jack didn't push the issue. He certainly wasn't going to complain about her continued company.

"So what do you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

He waved a hand. "About all of this. About what our next move should be. After all, this is still your command."

"Well, then, as commander, I think our best bet is to try to find this Nimue if she's still on the planet. I still think the Round Table is our best bet for actually defeating Mordred, and she'd be able to give us answers about that. But for the record, I don't mind deferring to your expertise."

Jack made a little sound in reply. "Thanks, Carter."

"Always."

Jack shivered as a chilly breeze blew through the forest again. He scooted closer to Sam and playfully covered his own legs with her heavy skirts. "Quit hogging the covers," he quipped.

Sam smiled and moved closer to him, enjoying the lighthearted teasing. She spread the skirts over Jack's lap so that his legs were mostly covered. This close to him, the heat of his body chased away the chill in the air. Sam's eyelids began to droop, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

The only sound in the forest was the soothing sound of Jack's deep breathing, and Sam's breath hitched when she realized that, somehow, he had stopped being the General in her mind. Now he was just Jack, and that thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

When he spoke, his soft breath was warm on Sam's face. "You know, I could get used to this."

"You could?" she murmured.

"You bet," Jack said, his voice warm and light-hearted. He waved his free hand vaguely in the air. "I mean. No mosquitos."

Sam smiled and ducked her head into Jack's shoulder to stifle her soft laughter.

"Plus, the company's not bad either," he said easily, and the last thing Sam knew before drifting off was Jack's lips on her forehead.

* * *

Fun fact for this week: as Daniel cites, Albion and Ierne are indeed the ancient names of England and Ireland, respectively. Ierne is the oldest known name of Ireland, and it is also nearer to the present Gaelic name "Eri," making it is a better option than Ireland's other traditional names, such as Hibernia.

In a work attributed to Aristotle (de Mundo, c. 3), he writes that in the ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules "are two islands, called Britannic, very large, Albion and Ierne, beyond the Celtae."

Other than my desire to use another historically based place name, Irish history and culture really won't factor into this story at all.

The only pronunciation of "Ierne" that I could find online is EER-na, or IR-na, though if anyone knows of a different pronunciation, please let me know!


	15. Chapter 15 - Isolation

Happy Friday! Enjoy the weekend! A very special thanks to my reviewers who leave me encouraging comments every week! You guys rock! -Jess

* * *

 _The only sound in the forest was the soothing sound of Jack's deep breathing, and Sam's breath hitched when she realized that, somehow, he had stopped being the General in her mind. Now he was just Jack, and that thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time._

 _When he spoke, his soft breath was warm on Sam's face. "You know, I could get used to this."_

" _You could?" she murmured.  
_

" _You bet," Jack said, his voice warm and light-hearted. He waved his free hand vaguely in the air. "I mean. No mosquitos."_

 _Sam smiled and ducked her head into Jack's shoulder to stifle her soft laughter._

" _Plus, the company's not bad either," he said easily, and the last thing Sam knew before drifting off was Jack's lips on her forehead._

Chapter Fifteen – Isolation

The songbirds were chirping merrily and the sunlight was just beginning to filter through the forest when Jack awoke the next morning. The first sight to greet his eyes was Samantha Carter, still asleep on the cot next to him and a messy halo of blonde hair framing her face. Jack couldn't think of a more pleasant way to wake up.

It had been a pleasant night too. Sam had dozed on his shoulder throughout all of Jack's watch. He'd enjoyed being covered in the blanket of her skirts, breathing in a scent that was uniquely Carter. Enjoyed it way too much. At some point, Sam had reached over in a sleepy stupor and taken his hand in hers. He'd spent two hours admiring how their hands fit together, and Jack couldn't fathom how his heart could simultaneously feel as light as a feather and heavy as iron.

He rubbed his gluey eyes in frustration. When he opened them again, Sam's brilliant eyes were fixed on him. "Morning," she said softly.

"Yes it is," he returned, wishing that he felt able to smile at her like she was at him. Instead, he stood, every joint popping from the effort, and walked a short distance away for a place to take a whiz.

Jack shivered from the early morning chill. The ground was covered in dew, but his feet stayed dry in his animal skin boots. The rays of the rising sun filtered through the trees, casting everything in a soft, hazy glow, while hinting that the day would be hot. Two songbirds called back and forth to each other.

He had to tell her. Now. It wasn't right to let her go on thinking that they could be together. He had been planning to fill her in on the reassignment after they'd gotten back to the SGC, but from the looks of it, they were stuck on this planet indefinitely, or at least until they could find a way to deal with Mordred.

She'd be pissed, but they'd be fine. He hoped. They'd waited this long, what was a little more time? A year. Certainly Hayes would be able to find someone else to run the program in a year. Then he'd be able to retire, he'd turn over the safety of Earth to men younger than he, and he'd take Carter back to the cabin in Minnesota. Alone. But he had a feeling that Carter wasn't really going to see that as an acceptable alternative.

He dawdled for a few minutes, muttering under his breath as he tried to plan what he was going to say to Sam, before he began making his way back to the camp.

A twig snapped on Jack's right, and he spun toward the sound. The bright blue dress stood out starkly against the soft golden light shining through the trees. Sam raised her hands, instinctually showing she wasn't a threat.

"Whoa, it's just me," she said, hurriedly. "I was just using the facilities."

"Of course, Carter," he said evenly. "I should have seen you coming."

He started walking again, and she moved nearer to him, her stride synching with his. "You looked miles away," she commented, and intentionally bumped his arm with hers.

"Lightyears, actually," he quipped, and she smirked at him.

Jack's heart sank to his feet.

"Anything on your mind?"

It was tempting to brush her off and just say that he was fine. After all, ignorance was bliss, and Jack was perfectly content to just keep walking with Sam through this misty forest on a cool summer morning. But he owed her more. Especially now.

Jack stopped walking and turned to face her. "Actually," he began, "there is something."

She turned towards him. "Oh?"

"Yeah, um … there's something that I've been meaning to tell you. You remember what we talked about before?"

"Before?" Even the way she furrowed her brows was cute.

"On the dock?"

"About us?"

"That's it."

"Of course." One side of her lips curled up in amusement. Jack hated himself for what he had to say.

"Right. Well, I – um, after we got back, I turned in my reassignment …"

Her eyes widened. "Jack, you didn't have to do that! I could have requested a transfer."

"Well, I did."

"Well, we should have talked about it first."

Jack ran a hand through his hair. She was right, he realized. She deserved to have a say in matters like this. But it had been so long since he'd ever had to consult anyone with these kinds of decisions.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I hadn't considered that."

Sam stepped forward, giving him a sympathetic smile. She placed her hand on his arm. "It's different, I know. _This_ is different."

Except that there was no _this_. Sam's hand fell as Jack moved a step away from her. He crossed his arms cleared his throat, plowing forward. "Right. Well, as I was saying before, I turned in the letter. A couple days ago, I got a response, and I thought you should know that–"

"Jack? Sam?" Daniel's voice filtered through the trees. Jack bit down on his lip in frustration. Damn the archaeologist and his timing.

Sam rolled her eyes, looking like she was thinking the same thing, and called, "We're over here, Daniel."

Their teammate looked usually hesitant as he stepped into their field of vision. "Oh, hey guys," he said in a purposely sheepish tone. "I, ah … I didn't want to disturb you, if you were – you know…"

Sam ducked her head in embarrassment.

"It's fine," Jack said through clenched teeth.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Everyone's up and ready to move out. There's no sign of the soldiers, but I think everyone would feel a lot safer if we got going."

"Thanks, Daniel," said Sam. "We'll be right there."

She waited until the sound of Daniel's footsteps had disappeared into the trees before turning back to Jack. "So what was it you were going to say?"

"You know what? It's fine," Jack mustered up a smile he didn't feel. "We should get back to the others."

Sam looked a little uncertain, but she didn't press him. "All right," she responded, "We'll talk some other time."

"You betcha." Jack rushed off back towards the camp, knowing that he was leaving her behind him.

* * *

Just as Daniel said, the makeshift camp was nearly packed by the time Sam and Jack got back. Teal'c was awake and looking only slightly rested as he and Trevor Lyall finished stuffing supplies in the rucksacks. Eliana and Kiernan were off to the side, talking insistently together. Jack moved over to where his bedroll lay, and she followed him, kneeling next to her own pallet. She caught Jack's eye as she rolled it up and gave him an easy smile. Jack looked back that the ground, concentrating on the task in front of him.

Sam's brow furrowed in concern. She noted the coiled muscles of Jack's forearms as he tied a piece of rope around the bundle. She couldn't pinpoint why, but Jack seemed … tense, as if he was preparing to run away from something. He'd been ready to tell her something before they'd been interrupted, something about them.

What if he'd been getting read to get something off his chest? She couldn't imagine him being so tense about good news, so what if it wasn't? Good news. He'd said he'd submitted his resignation letter. What if he was already regretting that decision? As much as Jack always talked about retiring, Sam knew that he was a man of action. Maybe he'd realized that he'd be unhappy without the Air Force, even if it meant they could be together. Maybe he regretted leaving the SGC. Regretted leaving his career for her.

Sam shook her head, trying to unravel the knots in her stomach. She was being ridiculous, overanalyzing what just happened like she was back in high school. Jack hadn't said anything to substantiate those kind of worries.

He'd promised her always, and he wasn't the kind of man to offer that lightly.

And even if he was worried about retiring, that was only option A. Sam was totally willing to ask for a transfer outside of the SGC, outside of Jack's chain of command.

That was probably the better option anyway. For years, Sam had been fielding offers for jobs in other departments. Area 51, the Prometheus Project, even the R&D division of the NID had had the gall to make her a job offer. She'd stayed on SG-1 because she knew she was needed on the frontlines … and because of her desire to remain with the men she considered her family.

But now that the Replicators had been destroyed and the Goa'uld's stronghold on the galaxy had been loosened, maybe she should branch out, explore other opportunities. The long distance thing would be unfortunate, but at least the SGC would still have Jack's experience and know-how. They shouldn't have to lose him because of her. They couldn't afford to lose him.

"Carter, you ready?" Jack took his foot and blotted out any evidence they'd had a fire last night. He already had his pack on.

"Almost." Sam stuffed the bedroll into her rucksack and cinched it closed. "Do we know where we're going, sir?"

"That's what I aim to find out, Colonel," Jack said, and Sam was surprised at the relief that flooded through her when he used her rank. This was normal. This she could handle right now. Just another day in the field. They'd talk about all of those other things later.

Sam followed the General over to Kiernan and Eliana who were still talking amongst themselves.

"So Carter and I talked last night," Jack said. "We're going to search for this Nimue in the hopes she knows where Excalibur is."

Eliana crossed her arms uncomfortably.

"We figured as much," Kiernan replied. "And we think we know of a way to help you with that."

"We're listening," said Jack.

"To find Nimue, you will have to travel to the Devil's Circle, where the Sistern River splits into its North and West branches. If you travel on foot, it will take you weeks. However, right now, we are relatively close to Meridon," Kiernan continued, glancing at Trevor. "That's the coastal city that the Ierneans raided many years ago. If we can get there, you would be able to rent a boat and sail along the coast until you reach where the North Sistern River empties into the Albion Ocean. From there, the journey up the river would take only a day, maybe two."

Jack glanced at Sam, asking for her thoughts. She shrugged. "Seems like a viable plan, sir."

He gave a terse nod. "Great, let's do it."

"Please understand," Eliana said, "we want to help in anyway we can, but if you do this, Kiernan and I will not be accompanying you. To sail into the Devil's Circle goes against our deepest beliefs."

"What will you do?" Daniel asked concerned.

"I cannot return to my village," said Eliana. "The soldiers will have searched the houses there, and it is likely that they have discovered the forbidden documents in my home. I will be marked for death."

"Meridon is a large city," said Kiernan, reaching over to take his intended's hand. "I am convinced that we will be able to disappear from the soldiers if we hide ourselves there."

"I can help you with that," Trevor Lyall spoke up. "I still have family friends in that area from long ago. People who also believe in Arthur's return. They will be happy to shelter you in there home."

Kiernan's shoulders sagged in obvious relief, and he extended his arm to Trevor. "You have my thanks," he said softly.

"There is no thanks necessary." Trevor clasped Kiernan's arm and then matched Eliana's easy smile, the tenseness of last night absent from the exchange. "You also saved my life when you helped us escape."

Eliana's gaze swept over SG-1, serious once again. "We will be safe for awhile, but Mordred will never stop hunting us. This is a game to him. We will be outlaws, as you are."

Eliana's wrung hands betrayed her worry, but in her grey eyes, Jack could see a fervent trust placed in his team. "We are depending on you to depose the king, to rid Albion of this tyrant. Anything less, and we will never be able to come out of hiding."

Teal'c placed a strong and steady hand on Eliana's shoulder. "You have our word."

"Truly?" she asked.

"We'll do our best." Jack didn't make any promises, but Sam knew that he was sincere in this statement. They would do everything in their power to help these people who'd risked their lives to help them.

"Then maybe we should get going," Daniel suggested, and they prepared to move out.

Sam swung the heavy rucksack onto her back, and out of the corner of her eye noticed Teal'c attempting to do the same thing. But as he hoisted the pack over his shoulders, the Jaffa stumbled and leaned heavily on a nearby tree. She moved to him, concerned, and placed a hand on his arm.

"What's going on, Teal'c?" she asked softly. She didn't think Jack had seen Teal'c's stumble, and she didn't want to draw attention to the stoic Jaffa if she didn't have to.

"It is nothing, Colonel Carter," he responded, but Sam could already see a sheen of sweat on his upper lip.

"Is it your leg?"

"It will heal with time."

"You're sure there's nothing else?"

"I assure you, Colonel Carter," he said evenly, his voice brooking no argument. "I am fine."

Dollars to donuts that meant that he wasn't, but Teal'c would still have to make the long hike ahead of the team regardless, so Sam pursed her lips and said nothing more.

* * *

He may not consider it a lie, but Teal'c knew he was being economical with the truth.

Sweat ran freely down the Jaffa's face and back. The rucksack seemed to be filled with rocks, and with every hill their party encountered, it became more and more difficult to draw in enough breath. His head pounded a constant beat, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep.

 _Kek_. His mind treacherously repeated the word with every agonizing step. _Kek. Kek._ Weakness. Nausea threatened to overwhelm him, and it was not just because of the pain.

But he could not delude himself. He was weak, and getting weaker. He would only be able to hide it for so long.

His hand moved protectively to the pocket sewn into his rough, homespun shirt. He could feel several small containers there. He was thankful that Mordred's soldiers had not taken his tretonin like they had everything else, but his supply still worried him.

Under normal conditions, his current supply would only have lasted a week. He always carried extra on missions, in case SG-1 was detained, but he had not prepared for this extended stay.

With rationing, he could make the tretonin last for a month. He hoped that would be enough time for SG-1 to develop a plan to defeat Mordred and return to Earth. He had to try.

Even if he could make the drug last, however, it would not be comfortable. The wound in his leg would never heal with his immune system so compromised. He would be weak, sickly, _useless_ if O'Neill and the others needed his help in battle.

"We are nearly there," Trevor Lyall's voice came from the front of the group, but Teal'c didn't get his hopes up. Trevor Lyall had said they were nearly there an hour ago. Still, Teal'c could see that the forest was becoming sparser, allowing the fierce summer sun to beat down on them directly. Teal'c forced down another wave of nausea.

He followed his team and their Albian allies up a particularly steep hill, grunting with each step and forcing his legs to simply not stop. Trevor Lyall stopped at the top of the hill and the others lined up next to him. Bringing up the rear, Teal'c was the last to halt, his legs shaking madly as he took in the landscape.

"Holy Hannah," Colonel Carter breathed through panted breaths.

"You can say that again." O'Neill too seemed awed, and even Teal'c's discomfort seemed inconsequential in light of the beauty of the scene before them.

For the first time, they could see the Albian coast and the ocean beyond. A gust of wind coming in brought an invigorating smell of sea salt, and Teal'c spotted several ships of varying sizes sailing on the waves. They could see a sizeable village, its perimeter going right up to the water's edge and surrounded by rolling hills that had been cultivated into farmland. Animals akin to cows and sheep grazed in the fields, and the denizens roamed around, hauling fishing nets and pulling carts filled with fish. Teal'c found it encouraging that he could not spot a single soldier.

"Welcome to Meridon," said Eliana.


	16. Chapter 16 - Meridon

My apologies for the lateness of this installment! My laptop is giving me all sorts of trouble, so I had to wait to upload this with a different computer.

Have a great weekend, and enjoy! -Jess

* * *

" _Holy Hannah," Colonel Carter breathed through panted breaths._

" _You can say that again." O'Neill too seemed awed, and even Teal'c's discomfort seemed inconsequential in light of the beauty of the scene before them._

 _For the first time, they could see the Albian coast and the ocean beyond. A gust of wind coming brought an invigorating smell of sea salt, and Teal'c spotted several ships of varying sizes sailing on the waves. They could see a sizeable village, its perimeter going right up to the water's edge and surrounded by rolling hills that had been cultivated into farmland. Animals akin to cows and sheep grazed in the fields, and the denizens roamed around, hauling fishing nets and pulling carts filled with fish. Teal'c found it encouraging that he could not spot a single soldier._

" _Welcome to Meridon," said Eliana._

Chapter Sixteen – Meridon

Meridon was unlike any village SG-1 had seen yet. It was smaller than Camlann, but much larger than Ancelin or Eliana's hometown of Brecknia. But more than that, an economy based on the sea meant other differences as well. Daniel noticed that while the homes they'd seen before were made of mostly wood and thatch, the buildings in Meridon were nearly all stone, though as he braced himself against a powerful gust of wind that blew off the ocean, Daniel could see the need for studier construction here.

The cobbled streets were narrow and crowded with innumerable denizens mulling about. Men pulling carts of fish, street sellers hawking their food and pottery and beaded jewelry, children darting between people as they ran across the roads. A skinny dog raced after two small boys, and Jack had to sidestep the animal when it tried to dart between his legs. He lost his balance and bumped into Sam, who nearly tripped over her dress. Jack swore in embarrassment and reached out to steady her, muttering an apology before purposefully moving nearly four feet away from her. Sam noticed, and for a split second Daniel could see a hurt expression before she steeled herself again. Daniel's eyes narrowed, worrying about what could have passed between his two friends who'd seemed so close the night before.

He glanced back at Teal'c to ascertain if he'd seen the same thing he had, but Teal'c was staring straight ahead as he plodded forward, his eyes unseeing and looking as if he was going to pass out any moment now. Great. Two things he'd have to worry about.

The smell of something close to smoked salmon wafted through the air, inciting Daniel's stomach to remind him of how long it'd been since breakfast. He shifted his pack, which must have weighed half a ton by now, and tried to get some feeling back into his sore shoulders. He was dying for a break, but Jack had insisted they find Trevor's friend and secure a boat first.

They'd rest when they got out to sea. Daniel knew Jack's insistence was because they'd been recognized as they entered Meridon. They hadn't been mobbed like after they arrived in Ancelin, but it had been impossible to miss the pointed stares and muted whispers as they trekked through the town. Even without their BDUs, they were a distinctive looking group, and it was likely that news of their escape from Camlann was spreading. There was always a chance that someone could rat them out and inform Mordred where they were, so Jack wasn't the only one anxious to be gone.

The ocean loomed in front of them by the time they came to a small, rundown building, more shanty than house, which was situated on the coast and secluded from the main part of town. It was quieter here, and Daniel could hear the waves as they rolled in. A number of small boats that were tethered to the shore bobbed in the water, and there was an old man who perched on a large rock, staring out over the ocean.

As they approached, Trevor called out the man's name – Henric Meurig – and a wizened face turned toward them before breaking into a surprised smile. The old man rose nimbly to his feet and wrapped Trevor in a fierce hug.

"My boy!" he laughed heartily. "My little Trevor!"

"Not so little anymore, Uncle!" Well that was true. Even standing, the old man barely came to Trevor's chest.

"No! I dare say not!" The old man pulled away, beckoning towards the ocean. "But it seems only yesterday that you and your cousin were splashing in the water and collecting seashells along the shore." Daniel saw Trevor's wince at the mention of Jaron Kerr.

"But Trevor, there are rumors, terrible rumors, that Ancelin has been destroyed!" Henric continued. "Is this true?"

"It is, Uncle."

"My God," the old man breathed. "And Jaron, is he alive?"

Trevor hesitated before giving a small smile. "When I last saw him, he was fine." Daniel cringed, acknowledging that while that was true, that had probably changed in the two days since they'd left him in Camlann.

"It sets my old heart at rest to know that." Which was, of course, why Trevor had said it. "But why was Ancelin destroyed?"

"Now that is a long story," Jack piped up. "One that we don't have a lot of time for."

"Uncle, these are some friends of mine." Trevor gestured to the rest of his group and introduced SG-1, Kiernan, and Eliana to the old man. "Everyone, this is my Uncle Henric."

"Uncle?" Jack questioned.

Henric waved his hand good-naturedly. "Only honorarily. But that's how you know he means it with love!"

Jack chuckled. "I'm sure." He extended his hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'll admit: I'm envious of your home here. You certainly can't beat this view."

By this time, Henric stared pointedly at Jack's face, still grasping his hand. "I know you," he said in a soft voice before glancing around at the rest of their little group. "Or rather, I know _of_ all of you." A shadow of recognition passed over his face. "It cannot be. You – you are those who escaped from Camlann two nights ago. We have been instructed to keep watch for you."

"Who told you that?" Sam asked.

"A courier from Camlann," said Henric. "He rode into town last night and told us of four strangers who came through the Gateway, how they escaped from the capital and of how they were wanted by Mordred for treason and crimes against Albion."

Daniel glanced at Teal'c, who raised an eyebrow in concern.

"But we who believe are not easily fooled." Henric looked around the group in awe. "We have waited for so long for Arthur's return. You will usurp Mordred and claim the throne?"

"Something like that," Jack said uneasily, still clearly uncomfortable with contributing to his image as a national savior.

"Then we will do everything we can to assist you." Henric inclined his head in a gesture of respect.

"And that view is held by everyone in Meridon?" Daniel asked a little suspiciously. Maybe he'd grown too cynical since he'd joined the SGC eight years before, but while he appreciated Henric's loyalty to their cause, Daniel was not ready to risk that the rest of the village felt the same way.

The old man huffed. "Far more who do than don't."

Sam shot Daniel a pointed look. Maybe he'd get to talk politics another time. "Well, we're thankful for your support," she said to Henric. "But General O'Neill is correct. We need to leave as soon as possible, and to do that, we're going to need to borrow one of your boats."

"A boat? Where do you plan to go?"

"If the soldiers come looking for us," Jack said, "it's probably better if you didn't know that, sir."

"Of course, of course," Henric's voice was understanding. "I will show you what I have."

Henric began leading off down the beach, but a heavy _thump_ drew Daniel's attention behind him. His Jaffa teammate had finally reached his limit, and now Teal'c had collapsed against the side of Trevor's house, barely conscious and his breaths coming in shallow pants.

* * *

Teal'c had done his best to focus on his teammates' conversation, but the heat from the sun was oppressive and the pack increasingly heavy. He tried to follow as Henric Meurig began leading them toward the sea, but the world began to spin, and thrown off-center by his pack, Teal'c stumbled and fell toward the side of Trevor's home. He leaned against the dilapidated stone, trying to right himself, but his injured and exhausted legs were incapable of holding his weight, and he crumpled to the ground, heart beating like a drum in his chest. His pack clattered to the ground next to him. As the darkness crowded in on his vision he feared he would lose consciousness.

"Teal'c? Teal'c!" He could hear Daniel Jackson's voice, faintly, and then the archaeologist was beside him. "What's going on?"

Teal'c pressed his eyes together and didn't answer. He felt a small pressure on his neck and knew that Colonel Carter was near as well, anxiously checking his throbbing pulse. When he opened his eyes again, the darkness had receded to the edges of his vision. Daniel Jackson pressed an open canteen to his lips, and a gulp of water slid down his parched throat.

The others were also around him, staring down with concern, and he registered Henric Meurig rushing away, saying that he would get more water. General O'Neill was at his leg, hurriedly unraveling the damp bandages. O'Neill had a strong stomach, so Teal'c knew that it was bad when even he couldn't hide a recoil.

"Oh, my God." Daniel Jackson looked down at his leg as well, his face screwing up in revulsion and understanding of the pain he must be in. "I don't understand it, Teal'c," he said concernedly. "Your leg is getting worse. Why isn't this healing at all?"

Teal'c let his head rest against the wall, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"You aren't taking your tretonin, are you, Teal'c." Colonel Carter's voice was solemn: more of a statement than a question. "That's why you're leg's not healing and why you've been so tired."

Teal'c flushed, and his friends knew the answer.

O'Neill stood and threw his hands up in angry exasperation. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"We have no idea how long we must remain on this planet," Teal'c stated sensibly. "I must ration my tretonin so that it will last me for as long as possible."

"You've gotta be alive to do that, you know!" Jack fumed. He pointed down at Teal'c's angrily swollen leg. "That thing'll kill you if you don't take care of yourself."

"Teal'c, how much tretonin do you have left?" Colonel Carter asked urgently.

"A week's supply."

There was a reason that Colonel Carter only won at poker when Teal'c let her win. She schooled her features, but her eyes were far too expressive, and Teal'c could tell she thought a week wouldn't be enough time. Their journey was too long, their plan too incomplete, to expect to return to Earth anytime soon.

He attempted to reassure her. "With rationing, that supply should last me for another month, but I cannot afford to waste it."

"That's all the tretonin we have?" Jack asked.

Teal'c was about to reply when Colonel Carter started excitedly. "No, it's not!"

Teal'c turned confused eyes on her. "It's not?" Daniel asked.

"No," she said. "There's a supply of it in my pack! The one holding our naquadah reactor back in Ancelin. I usually try to keep some extra around. Just in case." She smiled down at Teal'c, her eyes sparkling. "Never hurts to be prepared, right?"

He squeezed her hand in response, his heart lifted. He was always thankful for Samantha Carter's foresight.

"Well, unfortunately, that really doesn't help us," Daniel Jackson dryly observed. "The pack is still buried beneath a burned city, and we're planning to set sail in the opposite direction. Ancelin's got to be at least a week away by boat, and it's pretty safe to assume that that area's crawling with Mordred's goons guarding the Stargate."

"We'll worry about that later," O'Neill gave a dismissive wave of his hand before looking down at Teal'c. "First things first. You're going to take the tretonin now. We're going to dress your leg again and hope that that does some good."

O'Neill's tone brooked no room for argument, so Teal'c nodded. Slowly, he fished out one of the tretonin cases from his pocket. With a look at the precious liquid, he placed the depressor on his arm and gave a light squeeze. He covered the clear container with his hand, hoping that his teammates wouldn't notice that he'd only taken part of a dose.

But General O'Neill seemed to anticipate him doing just that. He reached down and unwrapped Teal'c's fingers from around the depressor before holding it up to the light. Half of the blue liquid glinted in the sun.

"All of it, T." The general handed it back to Teal'c, looking down at him sternly. "I mean it. We're gonna knock this infection out once and for all, and then we're going to figure how to deal with Mordred and get off this planet before you run out of the rest of it."

"Jack…" Daniel Jackson sounded uncertain.

"Ack!" O'Neill held up a finger, cutting off the archaeologist. "We're going to figure it out, Daniel. Because anything else is unacceptable."

His gaze swept over his teammates. "Besides, this doesn't change anything. We're in the same situation we were before; now we've just got a deadline."

Literally. Daniel Jackson crossed his arms uncomfortably.

"We will be fine." O'Neill said gruffly. "Now take your medicine, Teal'c. Before I make you."

Teal'c hesitated, and Colonel Carter put her hand on his arm in reassurance. "Teal'c, I know you're worried about using what you have too fast, but I swear to you, we'll figure out how to use the Round Table to defeat Mordred. We'll be back on Earth – or at least get the extra tretonin in Ancelin – before it's a problem."

He held her blue eyes. "Of that I have no doubt, Colonel Carter."

He emptied the depressor and enjoyed a rush of euphoric strength as the drug spread through him.

"Good." O'Neill clapped his hands together. "Then let's get our boat and set sail. We have a mythological sword to find."


	17. Chapter 17 - Vigilance

Welcome back, all. First off, let me apologize. It's taken me two weeks to get this up, and I'm sorry to have left you hanging. April and May are months where my jobs get incredibly busy, and so I've hardly had any time at all to write. Add in some crippling writer's block, and I haven't been very productive lately with this story. I'm hoping that won't be a trend that continues, but just know that I am more committed than ever to finishing this story, even if it takes slightly longer than I would like.

A huge continued thank you to those of you who leave me such lovely and encouraging reviews!

And so without further ado, we're on the open seas! Have a great weekend! -Jess

Disclaimer: I know nothing about sailing other than the research I did this last week. Sorry if it's completely wrong, but hopefully it at least _sounds_ smart!

* * *

" _We will be fine." O'Neill said gruffly. "Now take your medicine, Teal'c. Before I make you."_

 _Teal'c hesitated, and Colonel Carter put her hand on his arm in reassurance. "Teal'c, I know you're worried about using what you have too fast, but I swear to you, we'll figure out how to use the Round Table to defeat Mordred. We'll be back on Earth – or at least get the extra tretonin in Ancelin – before it's a problem."_

 _He held her blue eyes. "Of that I have no doubt, Colonel Carter."_

 _He emptied the depressor and enjoyed a rush of euphoric strength as the drug spread through him._

" _Good." O'Neill clapped his hands together. "Then let's get our boat and set sail. We have a mythological sword to find."_

Chapter Seventeen – Vigilance

The wind changed suddenly, and a gust of salty air slammed into the tiny fishing vessel, knocking it off-course and directing it back toward shore. Daniel breathed in an invigorating breath and pulled on the tiller in order to turn the rutter of the boat. The boat began to right itself, and the wooden beam holding the mainsail began to spin around, turning the sail so that Daniel could begin to feel the wind on his back and side again.

"Watch the boom, Jack." His friend stood to stretch his legs, but now the plank was swinging dangerously close to his head.

"Skipper, if you don't stop with your fancy boat talk, I'm gonna boom you right overboard."

Jack's growled response couldn't diminish Daniel's satisfaction as once again the sails filled out and then they were cutting effortlessly through the waves again.

Daniel loved sailing. His foster parents had lived on the Atlantic coast and in the aftermath of his parents' deaths and Nick's rejection, the sea had become his savior. Rick and Marlene had taught him to sail when he was old enough and by the time he was sixteen, he was sailing up and down the coast on weeklong solo trips. He now realized that he'd caused Marlene more worry than he should have, but those trips had been heaven for Danny Jackson – a respite from the constant teasing of his peers and a place of refuge to study his precious languages.

Now, he had another reason to be thankful for the painful, often lonely childhood he'd led. The Albian fishing vessel they'd picked up from Henric was relatively small and narrow, little more than thirty feet long and completely exposed to the elements. A single mast stretched high in the air and from that the sails – the jib and mainsail – jutted to the front and back of the boat respectively. The vessel was crowded with their party of five and definitely smaller than what they'd originally wanted, but it was not so different from Rick and Marlene's old sloop, and Daniel knew he'd be able to sail it.

The sun was falling lower in the sky, and Daniel figured it would be nearly 5:00 p.m. by Earth standards. They'd been sailing for several hours now. In a couple more they would reach the place where the Sistern River emptied into the Albion Ocean, but they'd have another day of sailing upriver before they reached the mysterious Devil's Circle, where Nimue supposedly lived.

Kiernan and Eliana had remained adamant about not traveling to the Devil's Circle, but Daniel had been sad to leave in Meridon. Thinking back over the last few days, Daniel knew that they owed the young couple so much. Their escape from Camlann, the supplies in Brecknia, the medicine to help with Teal'c's injury … SG-1 had relied so much on their generosity, and it had felt like leaving two of their own behind.

But Daniel knew that they'd be safe – at least relatively so – in Meridon. They were going into hiding, but Meridon was large enough that they wouldn't be easily noticed, and Trevor's uncle Henric had been sure that he and the other Believers would be able to help them start a new, quiet life.

And so they'd set sail earlier that afternoon, their too-small fishing boat made even more crowded by their supplies and the fresh food Henric had bought to them. He and Eliana and Kiernan had stood on the shore, waving farewell as they sailed away, and Daniel waved back, his heart too full of gratitude to speak.

Daniel stood to adjust some of the rigging and shook out the soreness in his arms and torso. He knew that he'd have to turn the boat over to someone else soon so that he could rest, but at the front of the ship, Sam had just asked Trevor, the only other person experienced in sailing a boat like this, to translate a passage in one of the books Daniel had brought along. Trevor was attempting to do so, but he was looking more and more like that nervous mayor SG-1 had first met in Ancelin. He'd stare down at the book in his hands and then every minute or so, his head would snap up, sweeping a look out over the sea. He seemed to be on the lookout for something, and even though he never seemed to see anything, it did nothing to dispel his tension.

Teal'c would be of little help too, considering he was currently conked out on the floor in the middle of the boat. He'd insisted that his strength and energy had returned from the tretonin, but Jack had still insisted that Teal'c take another dose of Eliana's miracle drug – ginsee, it was called – to help him sleep to fight off the infection. He still wouldn't be waking up for awhile.

And speaking of Jack, right now the older man was seated near Daniel's feet, tucked into the very back of the boat and sitting on a nest of fishing nets and leaning against one of their packs. He seemed content with simply staring out over the ocean at the sea they left behind. Except that that wasn't quite right, Daniel corrected himself. Jack wasn't content; he was … listless. Not that there was much alternative on a vessel designed to hold only three people, but as he took in Jack's furrowed brow and narrowed lips, Daniel suspected that beneath his friend's silence, his mind was still firing on all cylinders.

He seemed to be agonizing over something, and though Daniel didn't know for sure, he could hazard a guess that it had something to do with the woman all the way on the opposite side of the boat. Daniel still had no idea what had happened between Jack and Sam the night before, but it was becoming more and more obvious that they were avoiding each other.

It wasn't really his place to comment on the two officers' relationship. They hadn't said anything to either him or Teal'c, but Daniel wasn't stupid. He'd been at the cabin, when Jack and Sam had done little else but sit together on the dock, sipping beers and smiling at each other. Between the defeat of the Goa'uld and the Replicators and the unexpected – though not unwelcome – departure of Pete Shanahan, Daniel had assumed that Jack and Sam intended to pursue something between them, or at least come to an understanding of what they both wanted. In fact, until recently, they'd been so happy, so … relaxed around one another that it made the new tension between them that much more jarring.

Maybe they'd talked the night before and decided not to continue their relationship, Daniel thought ruefully. Maybe, for whatever reason, they'd decided that it was best if they weren't together, though the palpable tension between them wasn't doing a good job of supporting that theory.

All he wanted was for his friends to be happy. God knew they'd waited long enough for that, and in their line of work, waiting was the stupidest thing they could do. Daniel knew that from experience. He'd spent so long holding onto Sha're, grieving of course, but holding onto her memory because he was afraid of losing someone else. And then that someone else had been shot down in front of him while he held onto a video camera, unable to do anything but watch as his life fell apart again.

Daniel shook his head. He wouldn't wish that kind of regret on anyone, much less on Jack or Sam. It wasn't worth it.

Sam was still sitting at the prow of the ship, fielding the sea's attempts to drench the book she was again poring over. Even from the stern, Daniel could see she was looking at a diagram of the Round Table, but even with Trevor's help, she didn't seem to be getting anywhere. The frustrated way in which she ran a hand through her blonde locks betrayed her stress.

Daniel could see that she was more desperate than ever to discover how the Round Table could help them destroy Mordred. More than Teal'c's limited supply of tretonin, more than her own curiosity to figure out this technological puzzle, Sam believed that it was expected that she would figure it out.

Daniel knew that Sam knew how much faith her teammates had in her, but instead of encouraging her, that faith just seemed to stress her out more. Daniel considered somberly that Sam believed that he and Teal'c and Jack were counting on her to get them out of this mess. It might as well have been an order, and Sam would push herself to the limit to ensure that she fulfilled that order.

That was Sam's greatest strength, but also her greatest weakness.

Daniel resolved to keep an eye on her, then considered he'd need two more eyes for Jack and Teal'c as well. And as he caught Trevor staring wildly out at the horizon again, Daniel realized that the anxious mayor needed watching over too.

It was making Daniel nervous just watching him, so he reached down and tapped Jack on the shoulder and directed his attention toward Trevor. Jack picked up on what Daniel meant, and he called the man over to find out what was wrong.

Trevor stumbled over to the stern of the boat and leaned against the mast, bracing himself against the roll of the waves. He swallowed hard before explaining. "As we near the Sistern River, we also near the border of Albion and Ierne."

"And?"

"It is not uncommon for the Ierneans to sail these seas."

"So? Therefore?" Jack waved his arm impatiently.

"It – It's just that I'm concerned we run the risk of being spotted by Iernean pirates."

" _Pirates_?" Jack and Daniel echoed together.

"For cryin' out loud!" Jack exclaimed. "Nobody said anything about pirates before."

Trevor wrung his hands together. "I believed that the benefits of sailing this course outweighed the risks of being spotted, but several Albion ships have been intercepted by the Ierneans in the past," he said. "The ships were boarded, plundered, and then destroyed."

"Dare I ask what happened to the crews of those ships?" Daniel asked.

Trevor shifted uncomfortably, or maybe that was just the boat pitching back and forth. "They were kidnapped and turned over to the Iernean government. The Ierneans have offered to ransom those prisoners back to Albion in exchange for supplies, but Mordred has made it clear that he will not negotiate with those who betrayed their former country."

This political situation just kept getting better. Daniel sighed heavily. "So those men are still being held prisoner?"

"Yes, under what conditions we do not know. There are rumors though: rumors that they are sent to work in the Iernean mines in the worst conditions." Trevor glared out over the water. "Considering the raid on Meridon, I have no reason to doubt the Ierneans' cruelty."

True, but Trevor really wasn't unbiased regarding that matter either, Daniel considered.

The sun seemed to be falling faster now. It was directly in front of the boat, and Daniel had to shield his eyes in order to see where they were going. It was probably 6:15 by Earth standards, and with only an hour left until they reached the Sistern River, Daniel turned over command of the boat to Jack, who picked up the skills surprisingly quickly. Daniel remarked that he was a natural, and Jack responded that he'd always planned to own one of these things.

"Maybe in another life you did," Daniel quipped.

Excited for a rest, Daniel tucked himself next to Sam, who was still muttering unintelligibly to herself as she stared at the Round Table diagram. Daniel flipped thought the _Chronicles of Albion_ book.

"How's it going, Sam?" He tried to keep his voice casual.

She blew out a breath. "It's no good, Daniel," she said, hanging her head in her hands. "Trevor's told me what he knows, but without access to the Table itself, it's going to be nearly impossible to determine how to use it as a weapon.

"And on top of that," she said only half-seriously, "I'm nauseous from trying to read with all this rocking."

"Well, at least you'll never be as bad as Teal'c."

Sam cast a sympathetic smile toward their Jaffa teammate. He'd woken up half an hour before, but the continual rocking of the ship mixed with the not-yet-worn-off ginsee drug meant that Teal'c had spent the majority of that time with his head hanging over the side of the boat. Daniel still thought he looked a bit green…

He directed his attention back to Sam. She chose not to look at him, but in a voice almost too quiet to hear, she said, "I just don't know how I'll figure it out, Daniel."

Daniel reached over to grab her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it right now, Sam. _We'll_ figure it out," he said firmly. "This is not just on you."

He suspected that was hard for his over-achieving, perfectionist friend to believe, but he was glad when she met his gaze. "And who knows!" he continued. "Maybe we'll meet a real, live Ancient who'll be able to tell us more!"

Sam gave a playful smirk, and Daniel was encouraged. "I've already met a real, live Ancient, Daniel," she reminded him.

How could he forget? He was still jealous. "Well now it's my turn!"

He couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice, and Sam's face brightened a little more. "Thanks, Daniel." She squeezed his hand before she gazed out over the waters, thankfully looking noticeably calmer than before. Then she squinted her eyes and pointed.

"Is that a ship?" she asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun.

Heart pounding, Daniel followed her finger. Sure enough, a mass was taking shape on the horizon. It came into focus, revealing a long, wide ship and five massive sails. A flag flew from the tallest mast, and Daniel knew it wasn't the Albian flag.

"Pirates," he whispered.

"What?"

"Jack!" Daniel called and pointed. "Pirates!"

"Ah … crap."


	18. Chapter 18 - Out of the Frying Pan

It's 12:07 a.m. here in Minnesota, which means I missed my self-imposed deadline by a couple minutes, but I'm still pretty pleased I was able to get this chapter up this quickly. Thank you for your continued patience as I balance writing with a busy real life! And as always, thank you to my loyal reviewers (I'd love to hear from the rest of you, too!).

Action awaits, and there's ship along with it (of the literal and figurative kinds!). -Jess

* * *

" _Is that a ship?" Sam asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun._

 _Heart pounding, Daniel followed her finger. Sure enough, a mass was taking shape on the horizon. It came into focus, revealing a long, wide ship and five massive sails. A flag flew from the tallest mast, and Daniel knew it wasn't the Albian flag._

" _Pirates," he whispered._

" _What?"  
_

" _Jack!" Daniel called and pointed. "Pirates!"_

" _Ah … crap."_

Chapter 18 – Out of the Frying Pan

The ship was large and coming right for them.

"Daniel! Take over!"

Jack waited for his teammate to scurry to the back of the boat before relinquishing his post.

"We have to get out of here!" Trevor grabbed onto his arm, but Jack shrugged him off in frustration. He had to think.

"What do you want me to do, Jack?"

That was easy. "Turn us back to shore!" It was the only obvious answer, even though land was nowhere in sight.

The boat veered sharply to the right as Daniel pulled the tiller. Jack stumbled forward and caught himself on the mast, which Teal'c was also hanging onto. The Jaffa didn't look seasick anymore, but that was the adrenaline giving him something to focus on.

"It's not enough!" Sam called. "It's going too fast!"

She was right. The ship was gaining on them, cutting through the waves with nearly impossible speed, and Jack could see several figures scurrying around the deck and down the rigging, all with a practiced purpose that said this was not the first time they'd pursued another boat.

"Daniel!" Jack barked. "Think you could speed us up?"

The archaeologist didn't even bother with a reply. He pulled the rigging as taut as he could, and Jack knew he was giving it all he had. But the winds weren't cooperating, and the Iernean ship had too much momentum.

"Ditch the supplies!" Jack knew it was a futile gesture to lighten the load, but damned if he wasn't going to try everything he could. Carter jumped to her feet, stumbling over her long skirts, and began throwing over their sacks of food, and Jack moved to the prow and began tossing books over the side.

"Jack!" Daniel's voice was indignant. "You can't do that!"

The hell he couldn't. He threw three big books over the side and picked up another one, which he recognized as the _Chronicles of Albion_ book Daniel had been reading before. The reason that they were trying to find Nimue was because of this book; even Jack had to admit that it might still be important … if they ever got out of this mess.

"Here!" He threw the book at Daniel, who caught it and tucked it into his vest. "Keep that one."

"Sir?" At Carter's voice, Jack looked up again. The prow of the Iernean ship loomed forty feet above them, so close now that Jack could see the crewmen on the side of the deck, pointing at them and yelling to the others. And then the ship began to turn, sailing parallel to their tiny boat, and casting a large shadow over the ocean.

"They're turning!" Trevor cried in panic. "They'll pull up next to us and board us!"

Crap. Sure enough, the crewmen were throwing rope ladders over the side of the boat and three of them began hoisting a lifeboat over the side.

They were screwed. They'd never be able to sail away fast enough as long as the Iernean ship was pursuing them, and they were out of options.

"Ah, hell."

Jack pulled the zat from his waistband and clicked it open. He waited for the ship to come slightly closer and then he fired on the crewmen lowering the lifeboat into the water.

Three bolts of blue energy soared through the air. One, two, and three, and the crewmen slumped against the deck of the ship. The lifeboat fell to the ocean below, the ropes trailing after it. It rocked violently from the impact.

Another second, and then everything … stopped. The Iernean pirates stopped their yelling, instead staring in shock at their crumpled crewmates strewn on the deck. Even the ship seemed to glide next to their fishing boat more serenely than before.

That had been Jack's intention. He'd never have been able to take everybody out with a single zat, but if he could shock these technologically inferior pirates into thinking he could, maybe they'd leave them alone, giving them enough time to sail away.

Daniel took advantage of the lull and pulled on the rigging again, trying to catch the wind. The sailed filled out and stretched taut, and the tiny vessel leapt forward, speeding towards shore.

"Go, go! Come on!" Jack yelled into the wind, egging the boat on. Maybe this would work if the Ierneans considered them too dangerous to pursue.

A faint and venomous voice sailed through the air. "Turn it around!"

"Sir! They're coming back at us!"

Jack whipped his head back toward the Iernean ship, his heart crashing to the floor. The zat display hadn't worked. The ship was turning with greater force, full speed ahead … and they weren't stopping for anything.

At Jack's side, Carter whispered, "Oh God, they're gonna crash into us."

Jack forced himself to react, and he pushed Sam toward the side of the boat. "Everybody out! Jump overboard!"

Everyone reacted at once. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Teal'c jump as far away from the oncoming ship as he could. Daniel pushed off the stern and dove into the water, and as the ship bore down on their location, Jack grabbed Trevor's arm and dragged him over with him.

He hit the water with an insufficient breath and pulled himself forward with several desperate strokes. He was still underwater when he heard – felt – a shattering crack ripple through the sea.

Ol' Uncle Henric wasn't getting his boat back.

Jack came up spluttering and blowing water out of his nose. Their small boat had splintered into a dozen pieces. He grabbed onto a floating piece of wood as the waves rocked him about.

The enormous ship loomed menacingly above him, and Jack could see several pirates repelling down the side of the ship. Realizing that he was still holding onto the zat – were zats waterproof? – he hooked it back into the waistband of his trousers, resigned that continuing to shoot would do little good. There were too many pirates, and it was too far for them to swim to shore. One way or another, they would need to get onboard the Iernean ship.

Daniel surfaced a dozen yards away, coughing and wiping water from his eyes, and Jack could see Trevor Lyall a little ways away from him.

Jack whirled around looking for his other two teammates. "Carter? Teal'c?"

Teal'c surfaced to the right of him. With three powerful strokes, he latched onto the largest intact section of the boat. Teal'c hefted himself out of the water and pulled himself onto the floating wreckage.

"Carter!" Jack yelled. "Teal'c! Is Carter near you?"

A moment passed. "She is not."

Jack whipped his head around frantically, trying to catch sight of some movement above the water. But the roiling waves knocked him about and Carter was nowhere to be found.

She'd gotten off the boat! He saw her jump off the boat! If she hadn't …

"O'Neill!" Teal'c's voice was as close to panic as Jack had ever heard. He was pointing at the water a few yards away from Jack, but he couldn't see anything at all.

Shit. Her dress.

Jack gulped in a breath and dove beneath the water, forcing his eyes open in the cold and salty ocean. His eyes adjusted and a ray of sun illuminated a flash of blonde hair.

Jack kicked with all his might. Sam pumped her arms, but her waterlogged skirt billowed around her, keeping her stationary. As Jack came closer, he could see her lips pressed tightly together, her face contorted as she fought not to breathe.

She caught sight of Jack and reached out her hand to him. Jack grabbed her wrist and, letting his legs fall under him, he began to kick towards the surface. For a moment, he felt the two of them rise, but the skirt was too heavy, and the pressure in Jack's ears increased as they both sunk lower into the dark waters.

Carter's eyes opened in panic and a few precious bubbles escaped her lips. She couldn't hold on much longer, and there was no way Carter would be able to get out of the heavy dress. A burning sensation began building in Jack's chest, but he refused to think about it and kicked with every ounce of strength in him.

They rose slightly, but it wouldn't be enough. There was an apology in Sam's eyes, and Jack's heart seized. He held her gaze and gave one shake of his head. Sam closed her eyes, and then a shadow passed over her face.

Jack looked towards the surface and saw Teal'c swimming toward them. A couple infinitely long seconds later, Teal'c grabbed Carter's other arm, and with a look towards Jack, all three began kicking towards the surface. They began to rise, and Jack willed Sam to hang on. They still had several feet to go when Jack felt Carter stop kicking, and she went limp in their arms.

They broke the surface of the water, and Jack gulped in precious air. In the back of his mind, he noticed the massive ship only a couple dozen feet from them, the crewmen and the lifeboat in the water now, but his attention was focused on Carter, who was lodged in Teal'c's arms.

Her eyes were closed, her lips were blue. Jack knew she wasn't breathing.

"Teal'c! Give her to me!"

Teal'c relinquished her to Jack. He pulled Sam to him so that he was pressed up against her front, desperately treading water to keep them both afloat. He opened her mouth with his fingers, feeling some water rush out, but it wasn't enough.

He didn't know what to do! He couldn't give her CPR in the water!

"Carter! Carter, come on!" he pleaded. "Please, Sam!"

With one hand, he reached up to her neck. There was a pulse! It was still there!

Whipping his head around, Jack caught sight of a broken section of their tiny ship. The wooden plank was a decent size – perhaps enough to support Carter's weight.

He yelled at Teal'c to grab the plank, and with the Jaffa's help, Jack hoisted Sam's limp form on top of it before pulling himself halfway onto the wood. His legs were still dangling in the water, but he was close enough to check her pulse again with numb and shaking fingers.

Fainter than before, but still there!

He couldn't administer chest compressions, but he had to try something. Leaning over her awkwardly, Jack pinched Sam's nose and sealed his mouth over hers. He exhaled deeply twice, placing his hand over her chest so he could feel it rise and fall.

Nothing happened. Shit.

"Come on, Sam," he muttered. "Breathe for me!'

He covered her mouth again, giving another two breaths. _Please God, don't let her …_

A rush of liquid spewed out of Sam's mouth, and she coughed violently. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Sam! Sam, are you with me?" Jack couldn't stop his voice from trembling. Holding her around the waist, he slid back into the water with her so that she remained in a vertical position.

Her breath was still coming in wheezing gasps as she fought to expel the rest of the water, vomiting violently into the ocean.

"Sam?"

Sam wheezed again, and Jack could just make out her raspy, frustrated reply.

"I hate this stupid dress!"

Thank God. His heart started beating again.

She was still coughing up water on him as he pulled her tight to his chest, but Jack laughed in hysterical relief. Typical Carter.

He wanted to hold her all day, but he was also thankful when she pulled away slightly and began treading water on her own. Jack kept ahold of one of her arms, knowing the waterlogged dress was still a danger, and Teal'c was there, looking as pale and frazzled as Jack had ever seen him, holding onto Sam on the other side.

"I am pleased you are well, Colonel Carter."

"Thank you, Teal'c." Sam turned to look at the Jaffa, and then caught sight of the massive ship. Trevor and Daniel had already been hoisted onto one of the lifeboats, which was returning to the Iernean vessel. Another boat was already being lowered in to the water, presumably on its way to fish them out of the sea.

"Sir?" Sam murmured, her voice quiet with confusion and shock.

"Out of the frying pan, Carter." He motioned to the ship. "Into the fire."


	19. Chapter 19 - Ship Ahoy Hoy

Goodness gracious, this chapter has been a long time coming. I apologize for making you all wait – I'm currently juggling three different jobs, and my May was a lot busier than I expected. Add in some crippling writer's block, and this is one of the hardest chapters I've written so far. But rest assured that I'm still here, and this story is still my priority!

Bad news: I'm still very busy, and there may be weeks where I'm unable to post. Good news: this original chapter ended up being much longer than I expected, so I broke it into two and the next update is all ready to go!

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy! –Jess

* * *

" _I am pleased you are well, Colonel Carter."_

" _Thank you, Teal'c." Sam turned to look at the Jaffa, and then caught sight of the massive ship. Trevor and Daniel had already been hoisted onto one of the lifeboats, which was returning to the Iernean vessel. Another boat was already being lowered in to the water, presumably on its way to fish them out of the sea._

" _Sir?" Sam murmured, her voice quiet with confusion and shock._

" _Out of the frying pan, Carter." He motioned to the ship. "Into the fire."_

Chapter 19 – Ship Ahoy Hoy

Less than a minute later, the Iernean lifeboat pulled up beside Teal'c and his teammates in order to fish them out of the sea. Even as he clumsily pulled himself up, Teal'c scowled at the two Iernean men who were rowing the small, wooden craft.

They glared back, their arms tightly crossed in front of them, but they said nothing, and that was perfectly fine with Teal'c, who wasn't going to start a conversation if they weren't. Even so, he was surprised to find that they were dressed much more professionally than he assumed pirates would be. In fact, their dark, buttoned uniforms seemed more militaristic than anything else. Still, a man was defined more by his actions than his clothing, and the actions of these men certainly cast them as pirates.

Teal'c stood, doing his best to balance with the rolling waves – and the fact that his leg was throbbing again – and reached down to help his friends, who were still bobbing in the water. Samantha Carter grasped his hand and the side of the boat, and Teal'c strained to lift her up, her heavy skirts were so saturated with water. Eventually, she was able to swing a leg over and roll into the boat, and together, she and Teal'c pulled O'Neill in as well.

The General cast his own glare at the Iernean crewmen, who shot him a particularly vicious look, but his attention returned to Colonel Carter, who was breathing heavily and still coughing up small amounts of water.

He reached out to her, grasping her pale face in his hands in order to look her in the eyes. "You okay?"

She nodded insistently, unable to speak, and Teal'c realized she was suffering from shock. Her usually bright eyes were vacant and unfocused, and her body began shaking with violent trembling, brought on by more than just the cold ocean water. Those symptoms didn't escape O'Neill either, and he guided her to the side of the boat and helped her to sit down. He sat next to her, slung his arm around her trembling shoulders, and pulled her to him, trying to impart whatever warmth he could give, even though Teal'c could see that he was shaking too. Though perhaps that was not entirely from the temperature either.

Thinking back on the previous encounter, the Jaffa could not deny how quickly his own heart was still racing. The prospect of losing Samantha Carter had terrified him, and if there were any god out there whose power and deity were true, Teal'c was thanking him for the safe return of his sister and teammate.

"Ship ahoy hoy," O'Neill muttered, looking up.

An enormous shadow fell over the lifeboat, and when Teal'c followed O'Neill's gaze, he saw that the Iernean ship loomed directly above them, a reminder that they were not out of danger yet. Crewmen appeared above them, tossing down several ropes to their shipmates, and the Ierneans sailors secured the ropes to the sides of the boat. The boat jerked violently as it was hoisted into the air, but Teal'c held his ground and refused to sit down. He preferred to stand, to be able to protect O'Neill and Colonel Carter and to give him a better advantage against the unforeseen aggressors that awaited them on the rapidly approaching deck.

From his standing position, Teal'c could now see several dozen crewmen hurrying about the deck and calling out to one another. In the center of the melee Daniel Jackson and Trevor Lyall were being jostled away. They were restrained by the pirates, and Daniel Jackson was yelling at a sailor who pulled a soggy book out of the archaeologist's vest, but otherwise they appeared unharmed.

Teal'c again noted the militaristic uniforms and efficient manner by which the crew moved across the ship. As a former First Prime, Teal'c could appreciate the beauty of a well-trained squadron, and the actions of these pirates bespoke years of careful honing and discipline.

The boat crested the deck, and several men took hold of the boat and hauled it over the rail. O'Neill stood now, taking his own protective stance over Colonel Carter, who attempted to rise as well. Teal'c studied her with scrutiny. She teetered perilously as she tried to stand, and her ashen face said she was close to passing out. With one hand, O'Neill balanced himself in the rocky boat; the other he placed on Samantha's shoulder. She took it as a much-needed order to take it easy and lowered herself back to a seated position. O'Neill's hand remained where it was.

No sooner had the boat come to rest on the deck than half a dozen Ierneans rushed onto the lifeboat. They went first for O'Neill, dragging him away from Samantha and onto the ship. O'Neill scowled at them, but he made no other move. After all, there was no fight to make. Teal'c simply raised him arms in defeat, but several men pulled him forward as well, their fingers digging viciously into his forearms.

Colonel Carter was not subjected to the same treatment, and for that Teal'c was grateful. Casting a look over his shoulder, he saw two of the crew surrounding Colonel Carter. They grasped her by her arms, firmly but not cruelly, and helped support her as they guided her onto the ship. It gave him hope that the Ierneans were not savages as Mayor Lyall had led them to believe.

"Murderer!"

He had spoken too soon. Turning back, the situation had deteriorated. O'Neill was in the middle of the deck, rapidly being surrounded by crewmen.

Up until now, the Ierneans' anger had been displayed on their faces, but they'd appeared too consummate to express that anger verbally. But someone had been unable to resist:

"That's him! That's the one who killed them."

"Murderer!" Another man joined in the accusation, and the rest of the crew began grumbling as a frantic and aggressive energy began to spread through them. From their perspectives, Teal'c considered, it must have seemed that the blasts from the zat'nik'tel had killed their crewmates. They did not know that they would soon awaken.

Taking the chatter as encouragement, the instigator, a lanky sailor, young and tall, streamed past Teal'c towards O'Neill, who was still being held in place by two of the crew. He balled his fist and with all his might drove it into O'Neill's stomach. With his arms held in place behind him, O'Neill could do nothing to avoid the oncoming attack, and he doubled over, gasping and panting on the deck.

"That's for the three men you shot!" yelled the man. "You murderer!"

O'Neill sucked in a breath, but his voice was weak and insubstantial. "They're not dead!" he tried to yell. "Only stunned!"

They were not listening. The chatter grew to an excited roar, and the crowd began pressing in on the General. Teal'c began struggling against his captors, and he could see Daniel Jackson and Mayor Lyall doing the same. Another crewmen swung wildly, and his fist connected with O'Neill's ribs.

"Hey! Let me go!" O'Neill was shouting now. He stood and tried to shake off his captors, but they wrestled him back down. "You want a fair fight, I'll give you one!"

But the crewmen were without honor. They did not desire a fair fight; they only wished to exact their revenge. Another man drew back his fist …

"Everyone halt! That's enough!" A commanding voice rang through the air, and immediately, the attacking pirates backed away, leaving O'Neill crumpled between the two men who still held his arms.

Teal'c looked up to see who had stopped the assault. There were two figures standing on the upper deck. The first was a man in a smart looking uniform. He was relatively young, but his already naturally dark face was tanned and wrinkled, indicating a life spent out in the sun. Behind him was a stern-looking woman who stood stiffly with her arms crossed over her chest. The man descended the stairs to the main deck and surveyed the scene before him.

"Clear the deck!" he bellowed. "Now!"

The nonessential crew scattered, heading toward the doors that would lead them below the decks.

The man – the captain – approached O'Neill, and the General pulled himself to his full height. Between a split and bleeding lip, he addressed the captain. "Hey, thanks for that!" he said in a cheery voice that didn't quite mask the pain he was in. "But you should know, that I had the whole situation under control."

The captain stared down at him.

"In fact, I was just about to make my move."

Silence was O'Neill's only answer.

"I'm General Jack O'Neill…"

"I do not need to know what your name is," the captain growled and instead turned to the men holding O'Neill in place. "Does this man still have the weapon?"

"Sir?"

"The weapon he used. Did you take it from him?"

The sailors flushed in embarrassment of their negligence. The captain strode closer to O'Neill and cuffed his hands along his body.

"Hey, hey! Easy!" Teal'c saw his friend grimace as the captain make in contact with his battered torso before finally finding the zat'nik'tel in the waistband of his trousers.

The captain studied the zat and then glared even more intensely at O'Neill, as if physical proof of the weapon made the crime even more heinous.

"Your resistance to our approach and your attack upon us indicate that you are Albian spies."

"Close, but you're 0 for 2," O'Neill started. "We're not Albians and we're not …"

"You will be dealt the same treatment the Iernean government gives to others like yourself," the man finished, his voice growing in volume as he spoke over O'Neill.

Teal'c saw General O'Neill's back stiffen, unwilling to be talked down to like a child. Setting his lips in a hard line, he stared directly at the captain. "So the Iernean government is in the business of sponsoring their own pirates? That's a new one!"

"Pirates?" the captain keened, obviously insulted. "We are nothing of the kind. This is a commissioned vessel of the Iernean Navy, under the command of Captain Ramius Ibarra." He placed a hand on his chest, indicating himself.

O'Neill scoffed, and Teal'c saw a fleck of blood fly through the air. "Sounds like a small quibble to me!"

"Be as it may, we are on an official mission, and now, you are my guests."

"Prisoners more like it."

The man shrugged, uncaring. "As you said: a small quibble."

"Captain! Sir!"

Teal'c turned and saw one of the crewmen who had been supporting Colonel Carter approach the captain. He whispered in his commander's ear before motioning back to Colonel Carter. The captain nodded tersely, and Teal'c could just make out his response. "Take her below."

The two sailors returned to Colonel Carter's side, and grasping her arms, they began escorting her below deck. She made no move to resist.

O'Neill noticed that she was being led away, and Teal'c could see panic raced through his eyes before he covered it with a narrowed glower. "Where are you taking her?"

"Someplace where she may be properly attended to."

"Take us with her."

"You are not in any position to make demands, Albian." He addressed the crewmen. "Take them below. Put them in the brig."

O'Neill blew out a sigh that spoke of his frustration, but there was nothing else to do but acquiesce to their captors.


	20. Chapter 20 - Reyada

A day late, but you can blame our lovely host site for that. It won't let me upload Word documents, so I had to put it in a different format. Let me know if anything looks different. Thanks for your continued support, and have a great week! –Jess

Also, I don't think I've ever mentioned that all mistakes are mine. I do my best to catch them, but I don't have a beta right now, so yeah. I claim them all!

* * *

 _The two sailors returned to Colonel Carter's side, and grasping her arms, they began escorting her below deck. She made no move to resist._

 _O'Neill noticed that she was being led away, and Teal'c could see panic raced through his eyes before he covered it with a narrowed glower. "Where are you taking her?"_

 _"_ _Someplace where she may be properly attended to."_

 _"_ _Take us with her."_

 _"_ _You are not in any position to make demands, Albian." He addressed the crewmen. "Take them below. Put them in the brig."_

 _O'Neill blew out a sigh that spoke of his frustration, but there was nothing else to do but acquiesce to their captors._

Chapter 20 – Reyada

Jack knew that he was annoying when he was bored, but Daniel was a downright menace. With nothing to do, he'd been mindlessly tapping out a rhythm on the iron bars of their cell going on six minutes now.

"Daniel."

"What."

"Shut up."

The archaeologist blew out a breath and stuck his hands in his lap like a petulant child. "What do you expect me to do, Jack? They took my book."

Jack raised a pointed eyebrow, in one look asking how many times Daniel had yelled at him when he didn't have his Gameboy, while also conveying that they were all bored and all frustrated. Jack didn't want to be here any more than Daniel did.

This was becoming a habit: being locked in a cell with his teammates – s _ans_ Carter – and Jack didn't like it any more the second time than he did the first. He sat in the dank and smelly corner of the brig, nursing his bruised ribs and playing with the frayed edge of his sleeve.

Now that Daniel had been silenced, it was quiet except for the ominous creaking of the boat as it rose and fell in the waves. Trevor was sleeping on the single musty smelling pallet that lined the back of the cell. Teal'c sat in lotus position, his eyes closed and arms resting on his legs. Jack knew he wasn't kel'nor'reeming. He didn't get the same rejuvenating benefits he got when he still had Junior, but for a Jaffa over hundred years old, old habits died hard, and now he was just plain old meditating.

It was so boring.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before the situation changed. Jack and his teammates stood as the door opened, flooding the dark hold with light. He could see two figures coming down the stairs from the deck.

He recognized Carter immediately. She was looking only slightly less pale and weak than she had before. Supporting her was Captain Ibarra, who looked like he'd prefer to be anywhere else but here. He walked up to the bars of the cell, darting a glance at each of them.

"Back up against the wall," he said flatly.

That was an order Jack was willing to follow if it meant Carter was joining them. Ibarra fished a key from his pocket and opened the door. Carter stepped away from him, still unsteady on her feet, and Jack reached forward to help her.

"Carter, come on." He helped her into the cell before passing her off to Daniel, who led her to the pallet Trevor had occupied before.

"Sam, are you all right?" Jack heard Daniel asked softly.

Carter started to respond that she was fine, but she was cut off but a violent coughing fit. Jack grimaced in concern, and anger pooled in the pit of his stomach as he continued to stare at the man responsible for her condition.

Captain Ibarra was silent again.

"So is this the interrogation?" Jack quipped when he could know longer stand to listen to Carter's coughing. "Because I gotta say, you're really bad at this."

"I told you before, I have no desire to know who you are. I know all I need to already. I have come to inform you that we will be arriving in the Iernean capital of Dalria in two days. From there, you will be transferred to the Torridan Hills, where the rest of your kind are sent."

"Just like that, it's been decided? What about due process, huh? Innocent until proven guilty?"

Ibarra looked like he'd never heard of the terms. Probably he hadn't. "There is nothing to decide. You are Albian spies. You will be dealt with accordingly."

"And I told you before you are _so_ wrong about that."

"I am uninterested in your lies."

He turned to leave, and Jack grasped the bars in frustration. "Well, if you aren't interested in asking us questions, how about I ask you a few?"

Ibarra began walking up the steps.

"Like what the hell were you thinking?" Jack accused, his voice rising. "Ramming our boat!"

"The captain did not give the order to destroy your vessel," a cool, feminine voice answered him. It stopped Ibarra in his tracks. "I did."

Light-footed steps echoed through the hold, and a slender woman descended the stairs. At first Jack could only see her silhouette – strong and sinewy – backlit by the light streaming into the hold. As she came closer, Jack could make out her face. He had noticed her before; she'd been standing on the upper deck just before Captain Ibarra called off his attackers … _ahem!_ … broke up the fight.

The woman was tall with a mane of curly red hair, which lay draped over her shoulder in a messy braid. Her long, tartan dress was tied up so the skirt ended just below her knee, which allowed her to move unencumbered by the material. Her narrowed eyes roamed over Jack, studying him, x-raying him, reminding him of a shrewd and cunning serpent. In spite of himself, Jack shifted uncomfortably as she slithered toward the cell with measured, purposeful steps.

"Captain, if you are not intending to interrogate our _guests_ , then I'll take over from here." She addressed Ibarra but kept her eyes on Jack.

Captain Ibarra stepped firmly in front of her. There was a tension in his voice that said this was not the first time he had argued with the woman in front of him. "Ma'am, I must protest. You are an honored guest and passenger, but this is still my ship and this is still my crew."

In a flash of movement, the serpent struck and the captain was pinned to the wall, with the strange woman's arm pressed against his throat. Her voice was low, savage, unflinching. "Tell me one thing, _Captain_ Ibarra," she emphasized his rank. "What is my relationship to you?"

The man swallowed hard. "You are my commander-in-chief."

"And who appointed you to lead this ship?"

"You did, ma'am."

"That's right. You have this ship because of me, and it can be taken away just as easily."

She released her hold on his throat and he slumped forward, gasping and clutching his windpipe. The woman stared down at him. "As I said, Captain – I'll take over the interrogations here."

The captain recovered enough to give a stooped bow, and the scurried up the stairs to the main deck.

"Now." She turned back to her prisoners, smoothing her skirt, rumpled from the previous action. "Where were we?"

Jack cleared his throat, trying not to show his surprise at the woman's vicious display. "How about I ask you the same thing I asked him," he said. "What were you thinking destroying our boat?"

The woman gave a careless shrug. "I think it was effective."

Anger surged through Jack at her uncaring demeanor. Carter was still hacking up water in the corner of the cell. It had been too damn close.

"We almost drowned," Jack ground out.

"And you shot three of my men."

Jack held up both of his forefingers. "Stunned," he clarified. "Huge difference. I assume they've all woken up by now?"

"They have." The woman reached beneath her blouse and pulled out the zat in question from her waistband. She studied it curiously. "I assume that is the purpose of this weapon? To stun?"

"One shot stuns, two shots kill." If she was going to hang onto the zat, Jack figured she might as well know that piece of information.

"I see." She depressed the button on the side, and the zat popped opened with a metallic sound. Jack shifted warily and could sense his friends doing the same. "Then if that's the case, you won't mind if I do this."

Blue energy flew through the air and hit Teal'c squarely in the chest. Jack watched him crumple heavily to the ground.

"Hey!" Jack yelped indignantly on the Jaffa's behalf, and when he turned back to the woman, she had an impressed look on her face.

"This is an effective weapon," she commented, turning the zat over in her hands.

"Yes," Jack said slowly. "It is."

"So you will tell me: what were you doing in Iernean waters?"

"Excuse me?"

"You crossed into our territory."

"The North Sistern River is the border between our lands!" Trevor replied hotly. He'd been silent for a while but could obviously not hold his tongue anymore, not when they were being accused of misconduct. "We were not in Iernean waters! If anything, you crossed into Albian territory when you attacked us."

The woman gave a callous shrug. "That's not how the story will go when I tell it."

"Then you are liars as well as kidnappers and thieves."

"But not pirates," she said firmly. A lock of fiery hair had escaped the braid, and the woman flicked it behind her shoulder with an amused smirk. "And yet the question remains. What is your purpose here, Albians? Are you a military scouting party coming to observe our naval defenses?"

"We're not Albians, and we're not trying to trick anyone," Daniel said diplomatically. He moved to stand next to Jack.

"Well, he is, I guess," Jack hooked a thumb at Trevor. Everyone stared at Jack, and he tried to backpedal when he realized what he said. "An Albian, that is. Not that he's trying to trick you."

He gave an impish smile. The woman continued to stare at him, her face impervious to his antics.

"The point is," Daniel continued after rolling his eyes, "we're explorers. From a place further away than Albion."

"But that's enough about us right now." Jack waved a hand in Daniel's direction. He would rather not give away too much information about themselves. He intended to get away without revealing that they were wanted fugitives. "Who the hell are you?"

The woman pulled herself to her full height and looked haughtily down her nose at them. "I am Reyada, Premier of Ierne."

A choked sound of outrage escaped from Trevor's mouth.

"Premier?" Daniel asked. "Is that a title? Like president or emperor?"

"An undeserved title," snarled Trevor, glaring at Reyada. "This woman runs Ierne. She's the one who sanctioned the attack on Meridon."

Oh, perfect.

Reyada raked her eyes over Mayor Lyall and her scowl deepened. "And you are?"

"Your biggest fan," retorted Jack.

"Trevor Lyall, Mayor of Ancelin."

"And you have reason to question my leadership abilities?" Reyada stated, positioning herself in front of Lyall.

Her calmness served only to infuriate Trevor, who grasped the bars of their cell. Jack could see he was shaking with anger. "You ordered the raid on Meridon. You sought to steal food and supplies from your former countrymen, and your people left sixteen Albians dead because of it."

Jack noticed the twitch in Reyada's clenched jaw, but she said nothing.

"Your actions have fueled Mordred's desire to conquer your lands. _You_ are the reason we are fighting this war: the reason why countless soldiers are dying! You have doomed both of our nations! You have no honor–"

And then Trevor was on the ground, twitching as the zat energy raced across his body. Jack hadn't even seen Reyada pull the weapon again; it happened so fast.

"That's enough of that." Reyada's voice was as hard as steel. She looked back at Jack. "Now I need some answers. Let us go and have a more private conversation, Jack O'Neill."

Jack figured he'd rather get a root canal than go anywhere with this insane woman. "But our conversation's going so well," he said with forced lightness. "Why don't we just keep talking here?"

Reyada sighed, and then fired immediately at Daniel. Jack saw him crumple, but Reyada had already turned the zat on Sam.

"No! Wait!" Jack moved instantly, placing himself between Carter and Reyada. He didn't know what a zat blast would do in her weakened state.

"One way or another, Jack O'Neill, I will speak with you alone."

Jack held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. "Alright. You could have just said so."

Reyada signaled the guard to unlock the door of the cell. Jack turned and caught Sam's half-closed eyes. She gave a faint nod that said she was fine. It was a lie, but that was par for the course.

A guard threw the door open and Jack left the cell with all four members of his team lying prone on the ground.

* * *

I promise you: Reyada is the last important original character in this (very unintentionally) heavy OC story! But she's also my favorite.


	21. Chapter 21 - Interrogation

After dreading this chapter for weeks, I'm _finally_ done with this one! Ugh, there was so much necessary dialogue here and this chapter simply refused to yield itself to me! But I'm fairly pleased with the way it turned out.

Thank you all for continued support. I love that people are so enjoying this story! -Jess

* * *

 _"_ _One way or another, Jack O'Neill, I will speak with you alone."_

 _Jack held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. "Alright. You could have just said so."_

 _Reyada signaled the guard to unlock the door of the cell. Jack turned and caught Sam's half-closed eyes. She gave a faint nod that said she was fine. It was a lie, but that was par for the course._

 _A guard threw the door open and Jack left the cell with all four members of his team lying prone on the ground._

Chapter 21 – Interrogation

The ship's corridors were cramped as Jack, his hands tied in front of him once again, was jostled down a dark hall by two beefy goonies on either side of him. They were following Reyada, who finally opened a wooden door at the end of a passage. She stepped inside and indicated for them to follow her.

"We can speak in here without being disturbed."

Jack shifted uncomfortably when he realized that even though the room was far from extravagant, these were Reyada's personal quarters. The room was small – claustrophobic with four bodies inside – and starkly basic. There was a bed, somewhere between a twin and full-sized in the middle of the room, one small trunk against the wall, and space for very little else. The room was hardly wide enough to accommodate Jack and his entourage standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and Jack gave an animated jostle just to affirm how uncomfortable he was. The crewmen readjusted their hold on his arms, rooting him firmly to the ground.

Reyada shot him a narrowed glare, clearly irritated by his childish antics. She fingered the zat, as if considering dispatching him once and for all, but she settled for setting the zat down on the bed before she bent over the small trunk and began rummaging through its cramped contents. She finally pulled out a solid metal box, about the size of a briefcase.

"Ma'am?" The crewman on Jack's right spoke up, frustration edging his voice. He clearly didn't want to be here any more than Jack did. Reyada glanced up from hunting through the metal case and considered the men in front of her.

"Leave the bindings," Reyada said firmly with a glance toward Jack's secured arms. Jack considered what she was planning. Far from a discussion of equal standing, she could be looking to intimidate him, to coerce him into spilling his guts by whatever means necessary. That wouldn't surprise him, especially considering how effectively she took down Ibarra in the brig. She was obviously powerful, obviously skilled at getting what she wanted.

Well, this lady had something else coming to her. It didn't matter if she had some kind of torture device in that nifty little case she was still searching through. Nothing would compare to Iraq. Or to Ba'al. It couldn't.

"And you may leave us. Now."

Jack's head snapped up. Oh. The thought occurred to him that Reyada could have a very different intention for the bindings.

The goons released his arms and slipped out into the hall. The door closed behind him, and suddenly Jack was tied up and alone with a crazy woman.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and lifted his bound hands. "You know, people are gonna talk about this. Mark my word," he jerked his head toward the door, "those two are major gossips."

The room less crowded now, Reyada moved purposely towards him, the ominous metal case still in her hands. "Do you care what other people think, Jack O'Neill?"

Jack backed up, trying to counter her movement. "Easy…"

"Because I do not."

"Yeah, I'm getting that." His back hit the wall, but she still came closer. She stood right in front of him, so close that the fiery curls that had escaped her braid feathered lightly against Jack's face. Her eyes narrowed, but Jack noticed that they didn't hold that predatory, snake-like look she'd had in the brig.

She was studying him, it seemed. Her eyes roamed over Jack and then she reached up to touch his face. Jack screwed up his face in confusion and tried to turn away, but she stretched further in order to probe his cheek. Pain flared and Jack realized that the skin there had split, no doubt when some nincompoop's fist had impacted his cheekbone.

"Sit down." The woman motioned toward the bed, her tone brooking no arguments.

"Excuse me?"

"And remove your shirt."

Jack blinked, unbelievingly. "In your dreams."

Reyada rolled her eyes before she pulled a jar full of salve out of the case. "You are injured. I can help you."

Jack stared at her suspiciously.

When he hesitated, Reyada continued, frustration tingeing her voice. "If you would like, I could send you down to be examined by the ship's physicians. They had no trouble seeing to your injured friend, but I doubt they will be as considerate with you."

Jack had to concede that point. But in addition to his swollen cheek, his ribs were aching and he thought his kidneys might be bruised too. This woman's mood could turn on a dime, but if she had something that could help, Jack wasn't going to refuse her.

He sighed and perched himself on the edge of the bed. Reyada laid the case next to him, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was filled only with medical supplies.

"So they still haven't forgiven me, eh?"

Reyada wet a clean towel and rubbed it over Jack's grimy face before she threaded a needle with what looked like surgical thread. His cheek must look pretty bad if it needed stitches, he thought. Jack winced as the needle pierced his skin, but Reyada's fingers were deft and surprisingly gentle as she sutured his bruised skin together.

"The sailors you stunned have recovered," she talked as she made neat little stitches in his face. "The crew has no more ill will toward you on that account. But Captain Ibarra has set them to work cleaning the ship in response to their display when you arrived. They will not have forgiven you for that."

"A freshly swabbed deck all because of me?" But Reyada didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word, or she was concentrating too hard on tying off the thread to respond.

Now that his face was stitched together again, Reyada opened her jar and scooped out a liberal amount of salve – it was ginsee, Jack realized, the same stuff that Eliana had given to Teal'c – and dabbed it over the swollen skin.

"So …" Jack tried again when she didn't speak. "Ibarra seems nice."

Reyada gave a little huff. "Ibarra is a stubborn fool whose single-mindedness leads him to unfounded assumptions. He makes conclusions without evidence, unwilling to believe there could be any more than what he sees on the surface."

When she had apparently finished with his cheek, Reyada capped off the ginsee again. "Take off your shirt."

Right. That action was difficult with his bruised ribs and the fact that his hands were still bound together, but eventually Jack was able to wiggle the loose-fitting shirt over his head so that it was only wrapped around his arms.

"But you don't have that problem," he stated. "The one Ibarra has."

"Captain Ibarra is not curious about who you are or what you are doing here. I am."

"Why?" Jack let out an involuntary shiver as Reyada moved along his battered torso, feeling for breaks. The places of impact were painful, but Jack didn't think anything was broken, and he was surprised by the fact that he actually trusted this woman's medical capabilities.

"You said that you were not Albian spies," she answered.

"Isn't that exactly what an Albian spy would say?"

Reyada smirked. "That is true, but I suspect there is something more to it than that."

"How's that?"

Reyada bent over and reached beneath her bed in order to grab a soaked and soggy book. She tossed it toward Jack, and it thumped onto his lap. He recognized it as the _Chronicles of Albion_ book.

"This was found on one of your crew. My family left Albion many generations ago, but I am well aware that a book such as this is banned under penalty of death."

Reyada pulled out a roll of what looked like elastic compression bandages. Jack raised his arms in order to give her access to his battered ribcage, and she threaded the thick material around him.

"That begs the questions: for what reason would be have it with you, and why would you be sailing towards Ierne?"

Jack set his jaw, unwilling to say anything, but Reyada didn't even give him a chance to answer.

"You certainly would not be working for Mordred or you would never have that book in your possession," she continued, wrapping the material around him several more times. "And yet, if you were Albian defectors, there would be no reason to fear our approach. The Ierneans do not have a problem with those Albians who wish to come to our country to escape Mordred, only with those attempting to spy upon our defenses.

"As I have said: you cannot be allied with Mordred _and_ be in possession of that book. That evidence gives credence to your original statement. I believe you when you said that you are not Albian spies. But if you are not Ierneans and you are not Albians, then where do you come from?" She wrapped his chest once more before coming to the end of the bandage.

"From where," Jack quipped, trying not to show how impressed he was by her deduction.

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

" _From_ where do you come," Jack corrected. "Don't worry, it's a common mistake."

He let out an involuntary squeal as Reyada pulled the bandages tight around his ribs. That was _so_ uncalled for.

"The question has then been asked." She tucked the end of the bindings underneath one of the strips and stepped back.

"What's it to you?" Jack countered, grimacing as he rubbed at his sore chest. The bandages were snug enough to take pressure off his pained ribs, but not too tight as to restrict his breathing.

Reyada crossed her arms and considered him. "For starters, I need to know your worth."

"Just look at me." Jack spread his arms as far as the rope binding his hands would allow. "I'm priceless."

Reyada smirked in amusement. "I'm sure. But every human being has a monetary value, and I need to know yours, Jack O'Neill. For example, I need to know if you are worth anything to Mordred or his court."

"Nope, the king has never heard of us," Jack said firmly. If this crazy woman hadn't heard about the price Mordred had put on their heads, he sure as hell wasn't going to clue her in. "We're far too lowly to ever come up on his radar."

"Then that is unfortunate for you," Reyada said evenly.

"Come again?"

"Because a captive who is not worth enough to be ransomed is only good for one thing. The workers in our iron mines are dying faster than we can replenish them, and I am sure the foreman down there would welcome five able bodied newcomers."

Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You know, I've already done the whole slave in the mine thing … twice, actually … so I'm not looking get the t-shirt a third time."

"Then convince me you have a greater purpose."

Jack sighed, and realized he was out of options. "All right," he said, slowly. "What would you say if I told you I was King Arthur?"

The amusement on Reyada's face vanished. It was replaced with a deep scowl. "I would say that you are a liar, and you do not value your life very much, Jack O'Neill. Or the lives of your friends."

"Hey! You wanted my worth! There it is!"

"Arthur is dead and has been for over three hundred years."

"Well, you know what they say. You just can't keep a good man down."

Reyada's narrow eyes scrutinized Jack's face. Jack felt the uncomfortable itch of being studied again, but he held his ground and refused to show his discomfort.

Reyada's voice was dangerously low, and she reached beneath her skirt to where Jack could see she kept a personal dagger. "With your next breath, you will convince me of how you could possibly be Arthur or I will slit your throat right here."

She was just insane enough that Jack believed she would do it.

"Okay, umm…" Jack licked his lips and wished fervently that Daniel were here to explain. "You've heard of the Prophecy of Arthur's return?"

Reyada scoffed. "Myths. Fairy tales. Bedtime stories for children and fools. Ierneans put little stock in such rubbish."

"Hey, if it was any other story I'd probably agree with you," Jack said emphatically. "But this is real. Trust me, if it were up to me, I would not be on this planet trying to overthrow a tyrant I didn't know existed until a couple days ago. I didn't ask to be king! I don't _wanna_ be king! I've got enough on my plate as a general!"

Reyada turned back to face Jack, but this time he noticed her eyes were wider, open, more willing to believe. In fact, she _wanted_ to believe, Jack realized. He softened his voice, attempting to draw the woman out. "What have you heard about the Prophecy?"

Reyada looked at him suspiciously for a long moment, as if she was trying to figure out if Jack was drawing her into a trap. When she finally did speak, her own voice held a faintly wistful quality, as if she were remembering a time long ago when she had been told this story. "That Arthur, dead for many years, would one day return from beyond the stars. That he would come during his peoples' greatest need, to vanquish the enemy and reclaim his kingdom."

"That's us," Jack said evenly. "We're not from Albion. We came through the Stargate, the Gateway, from 'beyond the stars'." He raised his bound hands to make air quotes. "We didn't know about this prophecy until we'd already started to fulfill it."

Reyada continued to stare at him, trying to determine if there was any falsehood in his story. "I expected you to say many things, Jack O'Neill, but never that."

Apparently satisfied, she began packing up the extra medical supplies and then closed the metal case.

"You have answered one question," she said. "Then it is time for another. What is your purpose in sailing for Ierne?"

"We weren't sailing for Ierne," he said, and when she shot him another look, he raised his hands. "Honest! But I just have to warn you: the answer to that question is even crazier than the first. You see, Mordred has set a bounty on our heads for perpetuating the Prophecy. He's out to execute us, so if we need to fulfill that Prophecy in order to go home, that's what we'll do."

"You are attempting to eliminate Mordred."

Jack hesitated but figured that there was no danger in confirming that detail with Mordred's adversary. In fact, he thought, the Ierneans could prove to be valuable allies. The enemy of my enemy and all that.

"That's right."

"And how to do you plan to do that?" Reyada spoke coolly, as if she were intentionally trying to keep the interest out of her voice.

Jack picked up the soggy and flimsy book in his lap. "Well, that's all in here."

He proceeded to tell Reyada about the Round Table, about Excalibur, and about Nimue. He told her about how Nimue had once helped Arthur defeat the Goa'uld who ruled before him, and that she supposedly still resided in the infamous Devil's Circle. When Reyada scoffed at that, Jack had no choice but to tell her about the age-defying Ancients and their eternal quests to become glowy beings who lived on other planes of existence. He told her that they were sailing to the Sistern River to try to locate Nimue and Excalibur in order to use the Round Table to destroy Mordred.

When he finished, Reyada's eyes were awed, but not disbelieving. "Jack O'Neill, your story is just crazy enough that it must be the truth."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed, excited that she finally understood. "There's no way anyone would make this stuff up! So you believe us now?"

"I do," she said, sincerely. "And as I also wish to see the downfall of Mordred, I will assist you with your goal."

"Well, call me a cab and tickle me Elmo! That would be great!" Jack said enthusiastically. His spirits lightened as things started to look up again, but he realized there was a touchy subject to be raised. "Mainly we're in need of a boat. You know, since you destroyed our last one…"

Reyada gave an easy wave of her hand. "I assure you it will be no trouble to procure a boat or two from this ship." Captain Ibarra probably wouldn't be too happy about that, but Reyada's firm tone told Jack that it was another argument that she would win. Definitely.

"I will have them stocked with food and supplies and anything else needed for the journey."

"All very appreciated," Jack said. "And then we'll be on our way."

Reyada chuckled. "No, you misunderstand me, Jack O'Neill. I will be coming with you."

"Say what now?"

"My people have been fighting against Albion for nearly three hundred years. If you plan to destroy Mordred, then I will be there to watch him fall," she said firmly. "I will be going with you."

Jack gave her a sidelong glance. There was a fervency returning to Reyada's voice, an unbridled passion that hinted at obsession. It was almost as if she were unhinged, and Jack wasn't quite so sure he wanted help from her at all anymore.

But it didn't look like there was any other choice. They needed a way off this ship. They needed a boat and supplies to get up the river. And this crazy woman hell-bent on joining their merry band was the only way to do that.

"That would be great…" Jack said. He gave a thumbs-up and tried to hide his grimace behind a disingenuous smile.


End file.
